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Pen Pictures 
of Early Western Days 



VIRGINIA WILCOX IVINS 



ILLLSTRATIONS HV \VM. S. IVINS 



Copyrigkled igo^ 






LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two CoDies Received 

MAY 3 1906 

yOCopv right Entry 
CLAS2 OS' XXc, N 
' COPT B= ^ 



TO MY HUSBAND, 

THE SHARER OF MY JOYS AND SORROWS,* 

WHO WAS ALWAYS "tO MY FAULTS A LITTLE BLIND, 

AND TO MY VIRTUES VERY KIND." 

THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 

BY THE AUTHOR. 



IN PRESENTING THESE PEN PICTURES NO LITER- 
ARY MERIT IS CLAIMED, BUT THAT IT IS AN 
AUTHENTIC ACCOUNT OF SCENES AND OCCURENCES 
IN WHICH THE AUTHOR EITHER TOOK PART, OR TO 
WHICH SHE WAS AN EYE WITNESS. 



CHAPTER I. 




O niiicli has been said and written 
in reoard to the early settlement 
of Keokuk that is merely tra- 
ditional and often with small 
foundation, therefore it might 
not be amiss for one who was 
among- the pioneers of the place 
to jot down a few events, and 
describe a num1)er (^f interesting localities. 

Prior to the year 1827. the little village at the 
foot of the Des Moines rapids was only known as 
the Point, by the people living near; it was in fact 
merely a station of the American Fur Company, 
and as such a large trade was carried on with the 
Indian half breeds and French, also with the white 
people living in the vicinity, most of whom were 
residents of Illinois. The nearest settlement was 
at Warsaw, then known as Fort Edwards, being 
one of a chain of forts on the Mississippi river. 
The others were Fort Snelling on the north ; Fort 
Armstrong, now the United States Arsenal at 
Rock Island ; Fort Madison, and Fort Des Moines, 
at the present site of Montrose. 

My father. Major John R. Wilcox, was in 
charge of the forts on the east side of the river 
during- the Black Hawk war. }^\\ brothers and 



lo J\-n Picluvcs of pAirly IVrslrrn Ihiys. 

sisters were all born at the forts and my mother was 
a typical soldier's wife, accompanying" him on his 
trips from one fort to another, often in the dead of 
winter. The settlers on both sides of tlie river 
sought protection at Fort Edwards during the 
war, returning" to their homes at its close. Many 
close and lasting" friendships were formed, by the 
mutual need of protection, and residence under one 
roof go to express it, and the names of many friends 
of mv parents and grandparents were familiar to 
mv childhood as household words. 

]\iv father and mother both died when I was 
very small, and mv iirst coming to Keokuk was to 
make mv home with my uncle. Dr. Isaac Galland, 
in 1840. 

The first white settlers of Keokuk were the em- 
ployes of the fur company, together with the French 
and half breeds, the latter numbering about thirty- 
one, although a decree of partition which later lie- 
came a law, called for one hundred and one, and 
the Half Breed Tract, land which was given to 
these people by the government, was divided into 
that manv shares. The Indians brought many furs 
and pelts to the trading post, and a large traffic was 
carried on in exchange for blankets, beads and 
bright colored calicoes, not to mention liquor in 
plenty. Game was abundant, such as deer, wild 
geese, trukevs, quail, phesants and the smaller ani- 
mals, which could be had for the killing. 



J\'ii richircs of luirly irrslcni Hays. i r 

Chief Keokuk's AiHai^e was some five or six 
miles distant at the YeHow Banks on the Des 
jMoines river. 

The l)uil(hns^s at that time were the few log 
cahins of the French and half hreed settlers near 
the river. These were built of round logs, with chim- 
neys on the (Hitside made of sticks and the fire place 
was faced with flat stones f(^r a fire back and all were 
chinked with clay. They usually had one small win- 
dow close beside the door, and were quite warm, with 
a large fire place occupying most of one side of 
the cabin, where could be rolled in a huge back log. 
The rafters overhead were hung with skins of wild 
animals, ears of Indian ccn-n, strips of pumpkin, 
and venison hams hung up to dry, while the walls 
were decorated with gnns, shot pouches and game 
bags made of buckskin tanned by the Indians. The 
floors were made of puncheon ; these were logs split 
in half with the flat side up, and \vere often c|uite 
uneaven. 

The headquarters of the fur company, which 
bore the euphonious title of Rat Row. was built by 
them, being added to as occasion demanded ; it also 
served as a steam1)oat landing, being close to the 
water's edge, between }ilain and IMondeau streets. 
It was a long rambling structure built of round 
logs, tw(j stories in ])art with a rude stairway on 
the outside leading to the second story. These 
floors were of puncheon also and a platform of the 



12 Pcti Pictures of Early Western Pays. 

same extended around three sides of the biiil(Hn<4'. 
At the nortli end was a row of one storv cabins 
occupied by the head men. Boat stores were kept 
in connection with the company's store for the 
accommodation of steam and mackinaw 1)oats. the 
latter were a sort of flat bottomed scow square at 
both ends, being propelled by poling and paddling. 
Steamboats were becoming quite numerous and as 
my earliest home was on the river at A\ arsaw, be- 
fore my sixth year 1 had learned to spell out the 
names of the Red Rover, the Black \\'arrior. the 
Rosalie and the Alaid of Iowa; this was a small 
side-wheel boat running up the Des Moines river. 
She was afterwards sold to the Mormons and run 
in their interest taking passengers from St. Louis 
to Xauvoo. some twelve miles above Keokuk, in 
Illinois. 

The first actual white settler, aside from the fur 
company, was Moses Stilwell. \\ho came to Keokuk 
in 1827. His family consisted of his wife, 
three children and his wife's two brothers. Amos 
and Valencourt Van Ausdol. The family were 
domiciled at Rat Row while the men were building 
a cabin for them at what is now the corner of Ninth 
and Morgan streets, then a dense woods. The first 
christening was that of their little daughter a year 
or two old. who was baptised by the missionary 
priest. She was named for Mrs. Margaret Aldrich 
of loving memory who was sponsor for the little 




RAT ROW IN 1840. 



Pen Pictures of Early ll'cstcni Days. 13 

pioneer. Mark .\klrich, luisl^and of this lady, was 
the ag-ent of the fur company, living at Rat Row. 
He was afterwards a settler at Fort Edwards dur- 
ing" the Black Hawk war. Mrs. Aldrich herself is 
my authority for this statement, and Margaret Stil- 
well was a schoolmate of mine. She afterwards 
married Dr. E. R. Ford, living for a number of 
years at First and High streets. 

After the close of the war as people returned to 
their homes the little village began to improve and 
log houses were erected farther up on the hillside. 

About the year 1837. the town of Keokuk was 
laid out a mile square by my uncle. Dr. Isaac Gal- 
land, who surveyed, platted and gave it its name. 
He was assisted in the work by a surveyor named 
Brattle, whom I remember quite well. Dr. Galland 
also named the streets, and squares, three in num- 
ber. Of these there were Franklin scpiare <»n Main 
between Ninth and Tenth. Chatham square at Sev- 
enth and ^vlorgan. and Arch square at Eleventh 
and Timea streets. Unfortunatel}' these squares 
were not kept for park purposes as intended, for this 
would have added greatly to the beauty of the 
town. 

Dr. (ialland had taken the ])lan of Philadelphia 
as a model, and our wide Main street was patterned 
after Broad street in that city. The Doctor had 
maps struck off. and many were the plats of the 
town and maps of the surrounding country my 



14 Pi^ii Pictures of Early JJ'cstcrn Days. 

cliiklish fino-ers painted and made ready for distril)u- 
tion. At the time of my first coming to Keokuk, 
June. 1840, there were a number of houses in 
course of erection, mostly of liewed logs with a few 
of frame. Daniel Hine had built a comfortable 
hewed log house on W^ater street l)etween Main and 
Blondeau, bringing his family here froni Warsaw. 
IMadam St. Amant, one of the leading half breeds 
who could not speak a word of English, lived on 
Concert street between h^irst and Second. Her son, 
Frank Labershier, was the French and Indian inter- 
preter. He was very handsome with much native 
polish of manner, a splendid specimen of a man. 
He died shortlv after I came, lea\ing only his 
mother and I wo sisters. At that time there were 
a number of French residents here, among them 
Maurice and I'iere Blondeau. Joshua Palean, Ed- 
ward Brishnell and others, most of A\hom had In- 
dian wi\es. Henry J. Campbell, whose wife was 
a Potawotamie half breed, had a cabin on First 
street Ijetween Johnson and k',\cliange; Alex. Ale- 
Bride, whose wife was a daughter of Madam St. 
Amant. lixed on B>ank street between l-'irst and sec- 
ond, and on the corner of ^NFain and Water street, 
with a porch on the front and a garden back of it, 
on the slope of the hill lived Mrs. (laines of whom 
more anon. 

Dr. (lalland had built (|uite a pretentious house 
for the times on \\^ater street between Main and 



Pen Pictures of Early ircstem Days. 15 

John.on street which is still standing-, a store below 
'and a dwelHng above. Here he bronght his wife 
and little niece expectino- to remain and send t.,r 
the other members ..f his family. He also had m 
conrse nf erection a most comfortable house part 
wav up the hill on the south side of Main street 
between First and Second, where the stones of the 
foundation are still to be seen. This was hnished 
and the lumber on the ground for the.superstructuro 
when Mrs. Galland was taken seriously ill and he 
left at once to seek medical advice for her m St. 
1 ouis securing, as he thought, a trusty agent to 
attend to his lousiness and also to superintend the 
finishing of the house and have it ready tor us at 
our return. 

No sooner were we out ..f the t..wn than the 
aoent ha.l the lumber hauled out into the country 
some four or five miles to a piece of land that he 
had jumped, put it up and moved his family out 
there. He called it the Hermitage and it still stan.ls 
solitary and alone. 

T^^n ^•ears later when we returned the agent 
met us at the wharf and invited us to go to his 
countrv i)lace till mv uncle could procure a house. 
We went and silent two pleasant weeks in the house 
which should have been our own. The agent meerh- 
made a joke of the transaction, saying : "Oh, Doctor, 
^ve did not expect you back and I needed it badly, 
and he kept it. Possession was nine in.mts of the 



i6 Fcii Piciiircs of Early Western Days. 

law in lliose days and so my nncle was ol)liged to 
buv a house in which to take his family. This was 
a small frame cottage on First street between ]\Iain 
and Johnson and by adding a few rooms we had 
a cosy home, with a flower garden in front where 
my cousin and 1 planted and tended pretty old- 
fasliioned flowers. 



Pen r id arcs of Early U'cslcni Pays 



17 



CHAPTliR II. 




RS (t.MXRS, lieforc mentioned, was 
a well known character; she was 
a New Engand woman whose 
father on coming' west to St. 
Louis had married a French 
woman for his second wife, his 
daughter thus becoming familiar 
with French customs. She came 
to Keokuk as the rejjuted wife of John Gaines, who 
died shortly after, leaving her alone among strang- 
ers (juite penniless with two small hoys by her 
former marriage. She was obliged to do something 
to support herself and them. \Mien her strenuous 
life began she donned turl)an and handkerchief in 
imitation of French women and went to cooking, 
keeping- boarders and managing the affairs of the 
town to such an extent that she was dubbed the 
A Favor. She became coarse and hard, losing the 
fair, delicate looks of her }T)uth. took to swearing 
in Ixith French and English Ixiasting she w^ould 
shoot anv one ^\ho molested her, and I think she 
would ; at anv rate I saw her chase a man a block 
with an old pistol which had neither lock or barrel. 
The men were all afraid of her. or pretended to be, 
and she assumed the position of arl)itrator in many 



t8 /'(•// richircs of Earl\ U'cslcni Days. 

of the disagreements and dis])utes naturally arising" 
in such a waried population. 

We boarded with her and I knew her well and 
liked her too, for she was verx- kind to me when 
my aunt was so ill. There was a most wonderful 
loft to her house where she kindly stored numerous 
things l)elonging to my aunt and many of my child- 
ish toys ; l)ut like the spider and the fl}', whatever 
went up her ladder ne\'er came down again. This 
loft was also packed with china taking" a few pieces 
at a time from the store which my uncle carried 
on, where he kept goods far in advance of the needs 
of these earl\- days. Mrs. (iaines would go to the 
store half a block from her house and fill the check 
a])ron which she always wore and walk out, while 
the clerk. Avers l))- name, neither stopped or re- 
ported her. In this way she had numerous sets of 
gold band china to gi\e to her friends, some of 
which might still l)e found in Keokuk. 

luudy in September. 1840, I left Keokuk with 
mv aunt and uncle, taking the steamboat Rosalie 
for St. Louis, from there going on to Louisville, 
Kentucky where we remained three or four weeks, 
thence proceeding to Cincinnati, Ohio, where we 
arrived just when the Harrison campaign was at 
its height. 1die Henrie House where we stopped 
was the hcadf(uarters of the Whig ])arty in that 
cit\-. where ])olitics ran \cry high. My uncle was 
a staunch Whig and froni hearing almost constant 



Fen Pictures of Early Jl'cslcrii Days. 19 

discussions and conversations on the subject I 
learned, vonns^" as I was, much about the different 
aims and issues of the party. We remained at the 
liotel until after the presidential election when we 
went to board with the widow of Owen Lovejoy, 
the first abolition martyr, who was killed and his 
printint;- ])ress thrown into the river at .\lton. 111., 
for advocating the al)olition of slavery, in the year 

'839- 

\\'e remained with Mrs. Lovejo}- until after the 

election returns were received. Our next stop was 

at Chillicothe, Ohio, where we witnessed a grand 

parade and I helped illuminate our rooms at the 

hotel. I learned many campaign songs, one of which 

accurately described the parade. It runs thus : 

"There were steamboats and fortes and log cabins 
And then a great Cleveland brig, too, 
All drawn on wheels by fine horses; 
Hurrah for old Tippercanoe!" 
Hurrah for old Tippecanoe!" 

Proceeding on to Zanesx ille we saw another 
parade and heard Tom Corwin, a noted politician, 
deli\er an address. He was known as the Wag- 
goner bo}- and his rostrum was a lumber wagon. 

We were joined at Chillicothe by my uncle's two 
children, a boy of fourteen and a girl of twelve 
years of age. Going on to Akron, Ohio, we three 
were placed at school making our home with my 
grandmother at an old stone mansion on the farm 
which once belonged to ni}- grandf;ither, now the 



20 Pen Pictures of Early Jl'cstcni Days. 

site of Perkins park in that cit}-. We remained 
there two \'ears, my aunt and uncle tra\ehn§" most 
of the time. 

In the autumn of 184J. ni}- uncle having- fin- 
ished the husiness in which he was eui^aged and my 
aunt heing- (|uite restored to health, they decided 
to return to Keokuk and occu]\v the home which 
they supposed was waiting' for them. As we were 
((uite a good sized famil}'. my uncle jjurchased a 
canal jjoat and titted it up with the contents of his 
house, a complete outfit of beautiful mahogany fur- 
nitiu'c for parlor, dining room and bed rooms, to- 
gether with a ^^ ell-stocked larder and kitchen, and 
employing an experienced pilot and taking my 
aunt's eiflcient housekeeper and cook, we started on 
the return journe}-. Our 1)oat was to l)e towed 
l)y horses down the Ohio canal to a point near Pitts- 
burg where ^ve would come into the Ohio river, 
thence floating down to Cairo; from there we were 
to be towed b\' steamboat up the Mississippi to 
Keokuk. A hue plan had it been earlier in the sea- 
son, but all together a \ery slow mode of travel 
for a journev of fourteen hundred and fifty-three 
miles \vith the winter in prosi)ect. 

The trip down the canal was delightful in the 
lovely September days, loitering on the green banks, 
riding the horses and stopping at all of the villages, 
while on coming into the river it was e(|ually en- 
joyable. We saw many places of interest, which 



Pen rirlinrs of fuirly Western Pays. 21 

were rendered doubly so when my nncle described 
them to us as they were in liis 1x)yhood which was 
passed at Marietta, Ohio. Among" them was Blen- 
nerhassett's island where we spent most of a day 
in rambling over the once magnificent estate. There 
were still standing the tall stone gate posts of the 
entrance to the grounds. The ruins of the mansion 
were now oAcrgrt^wn with ^•ines and sapplings and 
we drank from the old well which still yielded good 
water, while mv uncle described its glories as he 
remembered them before .\aron Burr wrought the 
ruin of the ambitious Frenchman and his beautiful 
wife. 

All this was most interesting to me, for, as my 
grandmother had told me, and which is now^ a matter 
of history, it was into the hands of my great-grand- 
father, James Pritchard of Jefferson county, Ohio, 
who was Speaker of the Senate, that the proofs of 
the treasonable plot gotten up by Aaron Burr assisted 
bv Herman Blennerhassett, which was said to be 
backed by foreign powers were given; and it was 
with his aid and that of Abram Shepherd of Adams 
county. Speaker of the House, that Governor Tiffin 
was enabled to cjuell the rebellion and cause the 
arrest of the leaders Ijefore the trouble became 
known at A\^ashington. 

Floating slowly down the river, it was late in 
October when we reached Cincinnati where we 
should have l)een earlv in the month. Ouite an 



22 rcn Pictures of Early H'cstcni Days. 

exciting- episode occurred on the morning- O'f our 
arrival there. A passing- steanil>oat caused a heavy 
swell of waves when hy some mismanagement of 
the pilot our little craft fell into tlie trough of the 
river causing it to roll so badly that it came near 
capsizing. We passengers and the furniture were 
thrown about in dire confusion, and although none 
of us were injured it was not a pleasant experience. 
]\Iy uncle was so disgusted that on reaching Cin- 
cinnati he sold the small boat in which we had been 
so comfortable to the first customer and engaged 
our passage to St. Louis on the steamboat Raritan. 
The weather had turned intensely cold and on 
reaching Cairo we found the Mississippi so full of 
floating ice that our progress was very slow, and 
the night of our arrival at St. Louis the river be- 
came completely blocked. This changed our plans 
entirely and compelled us to remain there for the 
^\ inter. My uncle at once rented a house and placed 
us children at school. 

After an absence of two years I returned to 
Keokuk w ith my uncle's family as before stated, and 
for se\cral }ears knew all about the place, being of 
an inquiring mind and good memory. We left St. 
Louis on the first boat up in the spring, were nearly 
a week on the wa}-. arriving here on the first day of 
April. Idle river was barely opened, the ice being- 
packed almost to the middle. We were obliged to 
walk quite a distance before reaching the shore. 




/'(•// riiiurcs of Early ll'eslrni Ihiys. 23 

CHAPTER III. 

AXY cliang-es liad taken place and 
the village was fast developing- 
into a town. The Mackinaw 
boats of the French and the 
canoe of the Indian had given 
place to elegant steanilwats. A 
system of lighting had been es- 
tablished and boats conld now 
have their cargo transferred around the rapids 
by loading it into barges which were towed up 
along the shore with horses, and re-loading at ]\Iont- 
rose, thus enabling more rapid transportation. 
Large f[nantities of freight were handled in this 
way, there being no other means of moving it except 
!)}■ wagons. Often steamboats would get fast on 
the rapids and remain for many days and it was 
a dangerous task to get them loose from the rocks. 

Numerous houses had been built and the town 
was creei)ing up the hill. Both Main and Johnson 
streets had houses between First and Water streets, 
but as yet there were none up as far as Second. 
Lyman E. Johnston was then building the hewed log 
ho'use on Johnson street which so mysterioush' dis- 
appeared last year, soon moving into it with his 
family, his wife and daughter Sarah Marinda, who 
was my best friend. 



24 I'cii Pictures of Juirly U'i'sU'ni Pays. 

In June. 1S43, this cabin was sold to Charles 
Tvins who weather-boarded and remodeled it. build- 
uv^ a small brick addition. J.ater Charles Ivins 
sold it to liui^^ii Doran, who was the cashier in the 
I'ioneer Hank established by (ieorg-e C. Anderson 
about J 845. Doran died there, after occupying- it 
for several years, then the place went to ruin and 
now onl}' a few stones mark the spot of the once 
cos\- home. 

About 1S43 Lyman K. Johnston built a brick 
house on Second and Alain and a year later Daniel 
Iline one on Second and P)londeau streets. These 
were the tirst brick houses, the material being 
brought from Xau\oo in flat boats. 

The cabin of Louise Hood, the onl\- daughter 
of Dr. Samuel Mnir. was situated on Bank street 
near the corner of Second. Poor Louise had a 
checkered career, l^r. AEuir and m}' father were 
warm friends and his daughter gave me her own 
history. Dr. Aluir was a Scotchman, educated at 
the L"niversit\' of Edinburgh. \\ho on coming tO' 
America obtained a position as surgeon in the 
Lnited States Arm}', and was stationed at Fort 
I'lchvards during the Black Hawk war. After com- 
ing" west he married an Indian woman and had two 
children of whom he was dexotedly fond. James 
and Louise. His resignation from the army was 
caused by an order from the \\ ar Department pro- 
hibiting the ofhcers from retaining' their Lidian 



/'(•// /'iiiitirs of Early ]]'cstcni Days. 25 

wives. I'lacins;- liis (laughter in the care of Mrs. 
Mark Alch'ich at Warsaw, after providing for her 
maintenance and e(hicati()n. he took his son and 
went west to the Missouri river. T do not know- 
that he ever returned to Keokuk. His daugh- 
ter told nie that they both died out west. 

Louise made her home with Mrs. Aldrich till 
she was grown hecoining- quite well educated and 
very much of a lady, moving- in the best circles of 
tlie place. At the age of sixteen she married Amos 
Van Ausdul coming to Keokuk to live. Eleven 
months after their marriage Van Ausdol died leav- 
ing- his wife a posthumous child, and in most desti- 
tute circumstances. Being unable to support the 
child, she gave it to her husband's sister who after- 
^vards disowned her on account of her Indian blood, 
and she was utterly friendless. In desperation she 
married Alex. Hood who abused her terribly. She 
gave birth to an idiot child, and Hood was killed 
in a drunken brawl, leaving her worse off than be- 
fore. In her loneliness and despair she fell a prev 
to evil. Augustus Gonzega, a half breed who lived 
at her house, became her friend and they were tO' 
have been married; l)ut fate seemed to be against 
her for he was taken very ill and died without the 
ceremou}- being performed. She was the owner of 
two full shares of half-breed land, her brother being 
dead. This consisted of twenty-four town lots and 
an undixided share in one hundred and nitieteen 



26 



J\'ii rirhtrcs of Early U'cslrni Pays. 



tliousand acres of land, but no money or where to 
lay her head. The land sharks who were grabbing 
all the half-breed land they could get hold of, in- 
duced her to sell her shares for a mere song; and 
after a long life of toil and poverty she died in 
1882, leaving her demented daughter a heritage to 
the county. She was rmr laundress for many years, 
so I knew all about her. \l\ uncle and aunt be- 
friended her many times when she was in trouble. 







/'('// I'iiiuirs of Early H'csfcni Days. 



-/ 



CHAPTER IV. 




()l'v1T-l of Keokuk extending- (|uite 
to the head of the rapids was a 
dense gTOAvth (^f immense sug'ar 
maple trees, tall and straight. 
Xnmerous sngar camps were 
carried on in the late winter and 
earl}- spring and large quantities 
of sugar were made, by both In- 
dians and white people. Any one could go out and 
select a camp for themselves and occupy the same 
from year to year. Madam St. Amant's camp 
was a favorite resort in sugaring-off time. It was 
just where the electric light plant is now situated. 
One year my uncle, Franklin Wilcox, located a 
camp and made over three hundred pounds of sugar 
besides almost a barrel of syrup. 

The road to Montrose led up under the trees 
which grew along the shore, almost to the water's 
edge, a fine gravelly road with beautiful shade. It 
was a favorite resort for horsel^ack riding parties 
which were ^•ery fashionable at that time. 

The pioneer church of the \illage was of course 
Roman Catholic. A lot had been given on the cor- 
ner of Blondeau and Second streets, upon which 
to build a church; meantime a small house of two" 
rooms was put up on the corner of the lot at the 



28 /'('// riiiiirrs of Early Wcslcni Ihiys. 

rear and here masses were said, one of the rooms 
heini^- htted up as a cliapel. the priest livino- in 
the otlier. WedcHngs were also solemnized in the 
small chai)el, one of which I attended, that of ]{liz- 
aheth Hunt and Henry Louis, my cousin and ni\ - 
self Ijeing- the only witnesses. Fdizaheth was a 
memher of our family. Dr. (i. Walter Barr has 
given the story of their romance as I gave it to him, 
in his story, "The Victory of the Valliant." in Suc- 
cess for Septemher, 1904, with few alterations. 

The lots surrounding the church were used as 
a cemeter}'. On one occasion twenty-five men were 
huried there who were killed by the explosion of the 
steamboat Mechanic in her endeavors to get off a 
large rock in the first chain of the rapids, from 
which circumstance it took the name rif Mechanic 
rock. 

The prie.st was an elegant man, a native French- 
man, most zealous in his work, preaching in both 
French and Fngiish, and was building the church 
with his own hands. I well remember seeing him 
at work on the roof in hot July days with his long* 
coat closely buttoned to the chin. My uncle and 
he were warm friends. He was a frequent visitor 
at our house and a most welcome guest. 

Meetings of other denominations were held in a 
log school house on the corner of Third and John- 
son streets, where my young ideas were beginning" 
to sho(^t, and where at the same school, which was 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Pays. 29 

taught l)v a man by tlie name of Fletcher, were boys 
who as men became prominent in the affairs of the 
town. Among these I recall (ieorge E. and Henry 
Kill)onrne, James Daugherty, William Oldenburg. 
Edward Brown. \^alenc()urt Still well. Of girls 
there were Margaret Stillwell. Sarah Marinda John- 
stone, Zilpha Pooler. Amarilla McCain and Mar- 
garet Billings. T only remember the name of one 
preacher and that \\as Pliny Hatchet who was an 
elder of the Campl)ellite church, as they were then 
called. The ministers were itinerant, mostly j\Ieth- 
odist and Christian. 

The choir for all these meetings was composed 
of the Wycoff family, the father and five or six 
white haired urchins, to which I always added my 
voice, not wishing to be outdone or take a back 
seat. 

'J'he postoffice was established about 1848 or 
]84(). At the time of which I write E. \\. I'deck was 
postmaster. It was kept in a frame building on the 
corner of First and Johnson streets and with it was 
also carried on a general store. I remem1)er paying 
there a verv precious quarter of a dollar for the first 
letter I ever receixed; postage was somewhat of an 
item then. 

The first Fourth of July celebration in the vil- 
lage was that of 1843. The citizens built an harbor 
on First street, extending north from the postoffice 
about seventv feet, under whicli was set a long table, 



30 Fen Pictures of Early ll'esleni Pays. 

All sorts of pi"ovisi()ns were contributed, an ox was 
roasted and sumptuous dinner served to all 
who would partake. Cannon \\ere fired, spread-eagle 
speeches were made and the military company got- 
ten up for the occasion marched to the music of 
fife and drum with eagles in their eyes, firing my 
youthful heart with patriotism. The dear old flag 
was drawn to the top of a tall liberty pole which 
blossomed like Aaron's rod in its unfurling. A 
great bonhre was lighted as the sun went down and 
the da}- closed in a blaze of glory. 

About the year 1840 was erected the Rapids 
Ilotel on \\'ater street at the foot of Blondeau. By 
some mismanagement it was |)lace(l directly in the 
middle of the street, a two storv building" with long 
porches facing the ri\'er. ddie hotel was kept by 
\\'illiam Coleman whose wife was a relative of D. 
W. Kilbourne. It was here that the memorable 
champagne supper and party were given by Henry 
DeLouis on the occasion of his marriage to Eliza- 
beth Hunt, which cost the poor Frenchman all the 
money he possessed. 

The t()i)ographv of the place has been entirely 
changed bv the grading of the streets and cutting 
down of the hills, so that an old settler looking over 
Keokuk w(juld scarcely be able to recognize the 
place. There was a deep ravine running directly 
across Main street near Ninth street, tlixiding the 
town in two. o\er which was a wide bridge. The 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 31 

west end was called Cataragus. The hills near the 
river have also heen graded and cut down many 
feet. The drixe now known as Grand avenue 
w(nind around the edge of the 1)luff commanding a 
magnificent view, which is n«j\x- considered one of 
the finest on the Mississippi river. 

One of the most interesting and heautiful local- 
ities in the old days was the Painted Rocks, which 
have never Ijeen written of and which no one seems 
to remember. Beginning at the . foot of Johnson 
and \\'ater streets was, and still is, a low bluff some 
seventv-five feet in height extending down the 
ri\er for half a mile. It was quite perpendicular on 
the river side, with a smooth face of white lime- 
stone, the entire surface of which was covered with 
l>ictures painted in bright colors of men, beasts and 
birds with hieroglyphics running through it all, 
seeming to tell a story of long forgotten days. It 
was never deciphered and the Indians knew nothing 
about it. \\'ind and weather had no eft'ect upon 
it, but the hand of man soon spoiled its beauty 
when stone was needed for improvement although 
there was plenty to be had in other localities. In 
high water the waves washed the base of the bluff 
but generally there was a fine pel)bly l)each with an 
occasional bolder; it was a lovely spot, a favorite 
resort of the citizens on summer evenings. ]\Iany 
times 1 have strolled aJong the smodtli shdre withmy 
aunt and cousin and watche<l the moon rise over the 



32 Pen Pictures of Early U'cstcni Ihiys. 

Jlliiiois hills making- a i)at]i of "lory across the dear 
old ri\er. The \ie\v from the top of the hluff was 
\er\' hue. Alanv of tlie earlier residents had homes 
in that j^art of town which \\as then quite aristo- 
cratic. This is the ])lace which was talked of for 
a park, hut it can never again regain its old time 
beauty for the i)ainted rocks are gone fore\er. 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 33 



CHAPTER V. 




N 1843 the last larg'e 1)aii(l of In- 
dians, al)()nt Mix in number, came 
to Keokuk on their \va}' t( i In(han 
Territory, having" been ordered 
there 1)y the government. There 
were six or se\en braves who 
stayed at my uncle's house, he 
furnishing them with meals and 
his othce in which to sleep, where they rolled them- 
seh'es uj) in their blankets on the floor. They were 
extremely fond of coffee which my aunt had served 
to them in bowls as best suitings their appetites. 
These l)raves were on their way to St. Louis to re- 
cei\e their annuities, lea\ing the larger ])art of the 
band, mostly old men, scjuaws and pappooses, at the 
camp which they had made on the present site of the 
golf ground. After an al)sence of a week the 
braves retiu'ned and made read}- to resume their 
journey with their ponies and camping outfit. Some 
of the citizens were desirous of having them give a 
war dance before they departed, which at my 
uncle's earnest recpiest they consented to do. The 
then vacant lots at the corner of First and Johnson 
streets were selected as the place to hold the pow- 
wow\ Boxes and barrels and other intlammabic ma- 
terials were piled high for a huge bonfire. The day 



34 r'^-^'i Pictures of Early Western Days. 

^vas spent l)y tlie l)raves in making preparations for 
the great event, in painting their faces. neci<s and 
arms with l)right colored ])aints, 1)rai(hng their hair 
and otherwise decorating their heads. By sundown 
they were (|nite gorgeous, seeming greatlv pleased 
with the result of their lahors, while all the hand 
canie in either to see or take part; the entire popula- 
tion of the villages were there as spectators. When 
it was (|uite dark the fire was lighted and the ex- 
ercises hegan. First smoking the pipe of peace and 
shaking hands all around in token of friendship, at 
a sign from their leader they dashed madlv into 
the circle with whoops and contortions and most 
violent leaping and dancing, while their com])anions 
heat upon anything to add to the din. As the 
fire grew hrighter their dancing hecame almost 
fierce, hut Avhen it hegan to die down their spirits 
seemed to el)1) with it, and later in the darkness they 
(juietly stole away. 

The next morning they made rea(h- to resume 
their long and toilsome journey. Going upon the 
hluff they gazed long with .sad faces at hill, river 
and woodland, seeming to hid farewell to their lo\ed 
hunting ground. Then with a lingering grasp of 
the hand to their kind friend and with tears stream- 
ing down their cheeks, they walked steadilv out 
toward their waiting com])anions and started upon 
their jonrne\- toward the setting sun. 

Years have i)assed since Ihen, and llie march of 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 35 

of iniprovcnient has transfdnned the httle hamlet 
into the pr()si)er()us eity, 1)iit the picture of the red 
men is indehlily impressed u])on ni}' memor)-, aiid 
sympathy for them still li\'es in m\- heart, while I 
look with love and pride upon tlie home of my 
childhood which \vas once so dear to them. 

.\s a natural consecpience. owing' to the unsettled 
state of affairs, rowdyism and dishonest}- were ram- 
pant and Keokuk bore an unenviable reputation. 
As an excuse for their e\'il doings a xig'ilance com- 
mittee was organized among the frequenters of the 
small saloons which had sprung- up on the levee, 
headed hv one Dr. Hogan, a i>rotege of Mrs. 
Gaines, with the avowed object of protecting the 
citizens but in realit}' for (|uite the reverse. No 
one's affairs was exempt from their interference and 
an almost unbearable state of things existed. On 
one occasion the clothesline of L. B. Fleak had been 
robbed of the week's washing. The vigilants went 
to work ostensibly to ferret out the offender. Sev- 
eral different parties were accused of the theft but 
proved their innocence. At this juncture a man 
from some where up the country came to town on 
his way to St. Louis. He was at once pointed out 
as the criminal and ncjtified to leave town before 
sundcjwn or be lynched that night. 

Dr. Galland, who was not at all in sympathy 
with the vigilants. decided to protect the stranger; 
accordingly he hunted up the man who was walking' 



36 Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 

on the bank of the river lookino' anxiouslv for a 
steamlioat. The Doctor accosted him, savinj^": 
"M}- friend, do yon know that yon are snspected of 
being a thief and in danger of l^eing- horsewhipped 
tonight?''" ddie man rephed : ""S^es. Init T oniv came 
to the town tliis morning and 1 am perfectly inno- 
cent: \\liat can 1 do to protect m}'self?"" It was 
then al)ont fonr o'ckjck in the afternoon. "W'elk" said 
my nncle. "I can only give }'on a roll or carpet on 
which to sleep, bnt if yon wish to go home with 
me I will [M'otect yon till morning when there will 
probably be a boat here." The man \ery gladly ac- 
cepted the kind offer and came home with my nncle 
who told my annt what he had done and that there 
might be tronble. The honse was not finished, only 
two rooms being ready for occupancy and there 
were quite a number of steps up to the front door. 
As night came on my uncle sent his son down to 
the levee, heackjuarters of the gang, to reconnoiter; 
returning he reported great excitement and threats 
of \engeance against Dr. Gal land for interfering 
in their proposed sport; that thirty or forty men 
were coming up to take the man or tear the house 
down in the attempt. 

We children were sent into the back room, the 
door being left open so \\e could see what was going 
on. Idierc was no light in the house it being a 
bcautiftil moonlight night. M\' uncle took his posi- 
licn on the highest step at the front door, my 



Fen Pictures of Early JJ'csfcni Ihys. 37 

aunt stood beside witli the stranjo-er jnst inside 
awaiting developments. 

Aliont nine o'clock a crowd of men appeared 
coming- np First from Alain street, armed with 
pikes and grapling- hooks to demolish the small 
honse if necessary. Arriving at the front of the 
house they halted and for a few minutes there was 
a dead silence; then the leader. Dr. Hogan, said: 
"Dr. Galland, we have come for that scoundrel you 
have here." "Well," replied the doctor, "there is a 
man here who says he had only been in town a day and 
is perfectly innocent of what you accuse him ; I be- 
lieve he is, and I propose to protect hini till morn- 
ing when he will go on his way. It is an outrage 
for you to punish him without reliable evidence. 
If you w-ant him you will have to come and take 
him, but I warn you that the first man who enters 
this house it will be over my dead lx>dy." And im- 
mediately he took out his re^'olver and an immense 
bowie knife and flashed it in the moonlight. There 
was a short consultation in low tones when the 
spokesman said: 'A\'el1, doctor, we do not want 
to harm you but have come for that man and must 
have him." "Very well," replied the doctor, "come 
and get him." And then he proceeded to give them 
a piece of his mind, and as his conmiand of lan- 
guage was proverbial they received the full benefit. 
He then asked for some of the ring leaders in the 
committee but most of them had fallen by the way- 



3(^ Pen Pictures of Early Wrslcni Pays'. 

side on the march ii]). He then gave them some 
more plain English and while he berated them thev 
hegcln one by one to slink away and shortly the 
handfnl left went hack to their lair more rapidly 
than the}- came. 

As they went (;nt of sight the honse was shnt 
np. the man given his roll of carpet and the family 
went to bed and slept the sleep of the just. The next 
morning a boat came, my nncle escorted the 
stranger to it and he went on his way rejoicing. 
But the end was not yet. 

There was resident in town just one negro 
named John who had been a slave belonging to a 
wealth}' farmer in Missouri by the name of Mitchell. 
John was a most reliable negro. He had bought 
his freedom from his former master and had about 
six hundred dollars laid by in his trunk with which 
to buy his wife. The vigilants at once turned their 
attention to John as he seenied easy prey, accusing 
him of the theft and ordering him to leave town; 
his trunk was searched and his money taken and 
the poor negro was in terrible straits. One evening 
my uncle walked down to the 1e\-ee, not knowing 
of the trouble till he reached the scene, where he 
found Dr. Hogan horsewhipping John with the 
crowd looking- on, not one lifting a hand to protect 
h.im. 'Sly uncle always carried a stout cane and 
lie immediately stepped up to Hogan and began 
laying it on most vigorously, ordering him to let the 



Pen Piciinrs of Early U'cstcru Days. 39 

poor negTo alone. Xn one came to the rescue of 
the ruffian and he for once in his hfe received a 
merited punishment. After giving" him a severe 
cha.stisement Dr. Galland talked long and earnestly 
to the men. telling them what a liad reputation the 
place was having ahroad from such outrages, and 
appealing to their hetter nature to redeem them- 
selves and help huild up a town in which it would 
he a pride and pleasure to live. That he wished 
to live amicably with his neighbors, but did not 
intend to stand by and witness any more such out- 
rages, that there were other means to deal with 
oft'enders besides lynching, but if it was to be a 
constant tight he proposed to take a hand. There 
was no more lynching, but threats of vengence 
against Dr. Galland were like mutterings of distant 
thunder that did not materialize. Poor John, how- 
ever, left town the next day carrying an empty 
trunk. 



40 



Pen PicUtrcs of Parly U'rsfcni Davs. 



CHAPTER yj. 




S )et there had heen ikv (hvision of 
the half hreed land and the 
titles heing" in such an nnsettled 
state caused untold tron])le. 
Each half-l)reed ownino- an un- 
divided interest, which in their 
ignorance or dishonesty they 
sold repeatedly to different peo- 
ple, creating- great confusion and endless litigation. 
Many peo])le had settled on the land hoping to get 
a good title later. 

The r^ecree. a plan for dividing the land, had 
heen gotten u]). hut the settlers and those left out 
of the Decree on one side, and those favoring" the 
l^ecree on the other, \\ere in a constant state of tur- 
moil, and as a consequence much enmit}- existed. 

Tn an effort to ameliorate the conditions com- 
missioners were appointed, who upon not receiving 
their salaries, sued the owners of the land and ob- 
tained a judgment against the whole half-breed 
tract, some one hundred and nineteen thousand 
acres. This judgment was sold to Hugh T. Reid 
who in attempting' to enforce his claims received 
some pretty rough treatment. On one occasion he 
was chased into the Des Moines river and came 
near drowning, but was rescued and rode into Keo- 



Pen Piciurcs of Early JJ'rstcni nays. 41 

ki(k liatless \\itli his coat torn from his iKick. Ex- 
citement ran hii^h. mass meetings were lield and 
money contrilmted to opjjose the Decree in the 
courts hut without avail, and it was ratified l)y their 
decision in 1841. 'Fhis settled the titles and (|uieted 
the ti'(»ul)le to a certain extent. Much money was 
paid to different parties to prevent them from bring- 
ing lawsuits to enforce their claims, but the half- 
l)reed ghost, as some one has called it, would not 
down for years. 

vSo much litigation naturally attracted lawyers 
and the place became noted for the remarkable abil- 
ity of the members of that profession, many -of 
whom became prominent in the affairs of the nation; 
and we refer with pride to such men as Gen. S. R. 
Curtis, Judge Samuel F. Miller. Gen. John W. 
Noble, George W. McCrary, Maj. John W. Rankin. 
J. G. Wlckersham. Gen. William \\\ Belknap, Judg"e 
James AI. Love and Judge George H. \\'illiams, be- 
sides many others, some of whom made out their 
first l>riefs in the courts of Lee county. 

The medical profession was also well repre- 
sented by skillful ])ractitioners, earliest among them 
being Dr. Isaac Galland, Dr. F. M. Collins, Drs. 
Hover and Hains, and a few years later Dr. John 
F. San ford who first established the Keokuk Med- 
ical College in 1849, '^'i'^ '^ y^'^^' loiter Drs. McGugin 
and J. C. Hughes. 

Lhe luercantile business was represented by meii 



42 Pen Pictures of Earlv ]Vesten\ Da\s. 

of honor and integrity. Abrani Chittenden ruid 
W'ilHani AIcGavic were the pioneers, to l)e closely 
followed by Ainsworth & Dierdorf. and C (larber. 

Idiere were few advantag-es here aside from the 
district school. ^Meantime, 1 had attended one of 
these taught by Mrs. ^[organ Anderson, the wife 
of the Sheriff, on Main near Third; also one taught 
by George A. Hawley at the head of High and 
First streets, where I never tired of feasting my 
eyes on the magnificent view from this point. 

Tn June, 1845, ^ ^^"'^s sent by my guardian, Ben- 
jamin F. Alarsh, of Warsaw, 111., to St. Louis where 
T attended Edg-eworth Seminary, not returning' to 
Keokuk until October, i(S48. 

Remarkable changes had taken place, and in- 
stead of the small town I had left was quite a pre- 
tentious little city. There had been built numerous 
homes, some (|uite elegant. 

The l)es Moines Improvement Companv had 
been organized bringing" to the town such men as 
^^'illiam Leighten, Guy Wells, William Timberman, 
John McCune and some others. Although the en- 
terprise was not a success the\' made their homes 
in Keokuk ever afterwards. Sexeral of them built 
beautiful houses of the stone taken from the Des 
Moines river quarries; namely, Guy \\"ells one on 
the corner of Sixth and Timea streets. John Mc- 
Cune one on Third and Franklin, Gen. S. R. Curtis, 
who besides being a talented lawyer was interested 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ'rstrni Pays. 43 

in this improxement, one on tlie south side of Sec- 
ond and High streets. Rev. Williams had also 
erected the stone octagon house on the north corner 
of the same streets, establishing a young ladies' sem- 
inar}- there; later it was sold to Mr. F. C. Davis for 
a residence. 

Of brick houses there were quite a number. Ly- 
man E. Johnstone had erected one on the corner of 
Second and Concert streets. William AIcGavic one 
near the corner of the same streets. John Clegliorn 
a brick on Second between Blondeau and Concert, 
T. W. Claggett one on the corner of Third and 
High. Edward Kilbourne one at the corner of Sec- 
ond and A [organ. G(n-ernor Lowe one at the corner 
of Third and Fulton. General Belknap one adjoin- 
ing. James F. Death one at First and Exchange, and 
Capt. J. C. Ainsworth a brick cottage on First 
street between Blondeau and concert. 

Of frame houses there were quite a number. 
Dr. E. R. Ford had put up a very pretty Gothic 
cottage on Blondeau between Third and Fourth. 
Gen. V. P. Van Antwerp one on High between the 
same streets. Dr. J. C. Hughes one on Second and 
Exchange, Dr. Gal land one on Exchange. General 
Bridgeman one on First and High. Ross B. Hughes 
one at First and Bank, S. F. Miller one at Third 
and High, A. H. Heaslip a brick cottage on Second 
below Timea, and H. T. Reid had not only moved 
his familv here from Fort Madison. l)ut brought 



44 J^^^ii Picfinrs of F.arly JJ'csfcni Days. 

Ills lioiise also, quite a gocn] sized frame of two 
stories, on flat l)oats and taken it up to the corner 
of Third and Higli where he lived in it for several 
years, until ju(l£;-nient titles made him sufficiently 
wealthy to huild a fine hrick residence, or rather 
commence one. inr it was never finished. 

The Veranda, a large brick building, was erected 
on Johnson street for a Court House, and in that 
the Postoffice was located with Col. A\'illiam Pat- 
terson as postmaster. On Concert street was built 
a curious frame structure by Governor Lowe and 
a man by the name of Hummer, the plan of which 
was said to be given by spirits. It was used as a 
residence for their families, for a Presbyterian 
church on Sundays, and for spiritual seances during 
the week, with a resident medium named Marv Alar- 
grave who made some wonderful revelations. 

The Market House was sitated on Second street, 
open below with the city hall above, where public 
meetings were held as well as public entertainments. 
Two (H- three churches had been built: A Presbv- 
terian on the alley between Blondeau and Concert on 
Second, and a Alethodist on Fourth and Exchange. 

The Rapids Hotel had been taken down and the 
material sold to John Burns who rebuilt it on Blon- 
deau between First and Second, where it is still 
standing. Two^ newspapers were being published, 
the Des Moines Valley Whig, edited by James B. 
Howell, and the Keokuk Post, bv a man named 



Pen Pictures of Early U'cstcni Days. 45 

Reese, lliere were two drug' store, one kept by 
Dr. Boise and one ])y Mr. Ayres and his son Horace 
Ay res. 

The hotels were also two in number, one at Fifth 
and Main kept by Airs. Giger; and the fashionab/e 
hotel, the McFadden House, kept by a family of 
that name on Water street between Main and 
Johnson. The Laclede Hotel was l)uilding but 
was not opened until about 1850. 

Wholesale stores were already being established, 
Clegiiorn & Harrison, and Burns & Rentgen groc- 
ers ; with Cox & Shelly in dry goods. While in 
retail there were P. D. Foster and Samuel Stark- 
wather, dry goods, and S. Hamill grocers; with 
Capt. C. l\ Conn, Harry Fulton and A. H. Heaslip 
clothiers. And pork packing, which was an im- 
portant business, had as representatives J. F. Death 
and Frank Rav. 



46 Pen Pictures of Early ircslcni Days. 



CHAPTER VII. 



^ 


--^ 


-^1?- 


Ih 


d. 


_^p| 



HE society was good and as usual 
in a new country very gay with 
gallant men and many elegant 
women, almost e\ery state in the 
union being represented — men 
were largely preponderant. Par- 
ties were of frequent occurrence 
and could be gotten up on short 
n(<tice for all were ready for fun and frolic. And in 
place of the Frenchman C'hene}' who played for the 
jjioneers, James Orten, familiarl}- known as Jim, 
jiad a large band of two pieces, himself and one 
(jther, and while he kept time with his foot called 
off figures, for in those days the waltz or gallop 
were unknown and even the lancers had not been 
introduced, but we had just as good a time dancing 
(juadrilles with such figures as Do Si Ballanette, 
ladies to the right, and the Spanish dance, while the 
parties often wound up with Monie Alusk or Vir- 
ginia Reel. It might be going back somewhat to 
relate the last episode in the life of ])oor old Cheney, 
the fiddler, well known on both sides of the river 
where he was an innx)rtant personage, makin.g" 
music for the pioneer dances. He lived just below 
]\Iontbello in Illinois and when wanted at the Point 
would cross the river in a canoe, which was often 



Pen Pictures of Early U'cslcrn Days. 47 

rather danseruns f(ir a soljcr man, which he some- 
times was not. One night lliere was a party at Rat 
Row. The people for miles around were invited. 
From Warsaw there came Major and Mrs. Wilcox. 
Mr. and Mrs. Aldrich. Mr. Montague and David 
Mathews, making the trip in canoes also. 

^\'hile the festivities were in progress a dreadful 
thunder storm arose, so of course the Warsaw party 
stayed all night. But no persuasion could induce 
Cheney to postpone going home till morning as he 
had left his horse hitched just across the river; so 
in the midst of the storm he put off on his dan- 
gerous trip. Nothing was known of him for a 
week or two afterwards when he and his horse 
were found drowned and lodged in hrush and drift 
wood at the mouth of the creek on the other side of 
the river, which has ever since been called Cheney 
creek. 

The first large assembly I attended after my 
return, was the Taylor ball, given at the McFadden 
iKHise in honor of the election of Zachary Taylor 
to the presidency. It was a most elaborate afifair ; 
the ball room was beautifully decorated and the 
managers sent away for a real band. The toilets 
of the ladies were elegant and the supper sumptuous. 
We danced till the "wee small hours" and altogether 
it was an event to be remembered with pleasure, 
h'ive different men imited me si) of course I had 
a grand time. 1 even remember the dress 1 wore 



48 Pen Pictures of Early IVestern Days. 

on the occasion — a white Suisse, low neck and short 
sleeves, with rosebuds in my hair. My aunt said 
T looked real nice, which was the highest compli- 
ment she e\-er paid me on ni}- looks. 

The elite were all there; manv names come to 
me of those attending". There were Mr. and Mrs. 
Chittenden and Mr. and Mrs. McGavic. both re- 
centy married; Mr. and Mrs. Lewis R. Reeves, the 
latter afterwards Mrs. Judge Miller; Dr. and Mrs. 
Birdsall, Captain and Mrs. J. C. Ainsworth, Mr. 
and Mrs. Dierdoff, Mr. and Mrs. P. D. Foster, Mr. 
and Airs. [.}-man E. Johnstone, Mr. and INIrs. E. H. 
Harrison, Mr. and ^Mrs. l>lford, Mr. and Mrs. 
Thomas Anderson, Mr. and ]\lrs. J. E. Darst, Dr. 
and Mrs. Boice, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Eulton and 
]\Ir. and Mrs. Bridgeman ; and ni single men I recall 
Frank Bridgeman, J. Lafe Curtis, Daniel Cramm, 
James E. Cox, Dr. Duree, Capt. Charles Mor- 
rison, William S. and Henry Ivins, Dr. Sullivan, 
Leroy McGavic, C. E. Davis, Joel Mathews, J. P. 
Keede, C. E. Stone, Ross B. Hughes, Charles Brad- 
ford and many others. 

There were many very pretty girls, some 
of them lieautiful. Of these I will mention Mary 
J. Hughes and Ellen Cole, two of the handstmiest 
girls ever in Keokuk. 

There was much sociabihly between Warsaw 
and Keokuk, especially in winter when the river 
was frozen cjver; as soon as the ice was strong 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 49 

enoui^h some one would l)reak a road and sleighing- 
j)ai ties were of frequent occurrence with supper and 
dancino- at the Warsaw House. There was good 
sleighing- on both the ri\-er and shore for three 
months of the winter 1848-49. Tiiere was also a 
large sleighing party to Ft. Madison, where we 
danced and stayed all night at the hotel kept by 
Col. C. H. Perry, \\ho afterwards l)ecame a resident 
of Keokuk. At least three weddings grew out of that 
sleighride and one or two that were in anticipation 
were indefinitely postponed. 

In 1850 the ferry between Keokuk and Hamil- 
ton was established and the dike was built, but as 
}et the town of Hamilton was only in name. Rail- 
roads ^\■ere thought of but not built and the only 
means of travel was by the river or in the old Con- 
cord coaches, which carried man}- a weary passen- 
ger over roads almost impassable. 

I recollect a trip I made from Burlington to 
\Varsaw in the spring of 1848. I was just a school 
girl traveling alone. We left Burlington in a great 
lumbering coach at four o'clock in the morning, 
with nine passengers on the inside with four 
horses attached. The mud was hub deep; sev- 
eral times we were nearly mired down and the ve- 
hicle had to be pried out with rails. We did not 
reach Keokuk until nine o'clock that night, were 
driven at once to the wharf where a steamboat was 
just ready to start down the river. 1 asked the 



50 Pen Pictures of Early Western Pays. 

agent, ]\rr. Daniel Hine, to take me on board, paid 
a dollar for mv passage and reached Warsaw at 
eleven o'clock that night more dead than alive, as 
I had been ^ick all day from the rolling of the 
coach. 

In 1848 the honse on the corner of First and 
Johnston street, bnilt by James Tvins, was sold by 
him to his l)rother, Charles Ivins. who remodeled 
it into a hotel, having leased to a ]Mr. Emery, who 
died bef(MX getting it into rnnning order, leaving 
his widow with small means. Mr. Ivins kindly 
released her of the responsibility and while waiting 
f(3r a tenant kept the honse oi)en himself, his son. 
William S. h'ins, taking temporary charge. As 
time went on no renter was fonnd and Mr. Charles 
Ivins" family kept the honse themselves for almost 
fonr years, giving it the name of the h'ins Honse. 
It was a most comfortable place for the times, 
^lany of the old residents pnt np there on their first 
arrival in town. I conld name forty or fifty promi- 
nent men who made their first home in Keokuk at 
the I\ins Honse. Many young men boarded there 
and it was very lively with parties, rides, walks and 
other amusements. In 1855 it was sold to a man 
by the name of Bunnel who kept it for a number of 
years. 

Steamboats were really more numerous then 
than tbev are at present. A line of elegant packets 
had been established l)etween here and St. Louis^ 



/'('// ricturcs of Early Western Days. 51 

one of which was a reniarkalile blower and was 
quite appropriately named the Boreas, whose escape 
puff could be heard from Canton, twenty miles 
away; this may seem incredible but it is absolutely 
true; I have heard it many times and oft. Most of 
the others could be heard four or five miles ; it was 
before the introduction of steam whistles and thev 
\\cre all high pressure engines. 

AA'eddings were of frequent occurrence here, but 
many of the young men went away "for the girls 
they left behind them." Mrs. Emery opened a 
boarding house on Second street between Main and 
Johnson streets, and here it was quite the fashion 
for the newly married people to board. Among 
these I remember Capt. C. F. Conn and wife, Mr. 
and Mrs. Charles McDonald, Mr. and Mrs. J. W. 
Rankin, Judge and ]\Irs. James M. Love, Capt. 
Chariest Morrison and wife, and Mr. and Mrs. Gil- 
bert Comstock, besides some others not so vouthful 
who made their first married home with Mrs. 
Emery. 

Mr. and Airs. Abram Chittenden and jMr. and 
Mrs. A\^illiam McGavic lived in apartments over 
their store on Water street. The}- were leaders 
in much of the gaiet}-, in most of which I partici- 
pated imtil our departure for the West, four years 
after my marriage to Air. William S. Ivins. 



:i- 



Pcii Pictures of Early H'cslcni Days. 



CHAPTER VIII. 




[XOTABLE ei)och was marked in 
the history (jf the United States 
by the openino- of Cahfornia to 
settlers, and in the }-ear 1849 
the (hscovery of gold made the 
emigration great, bnt in the year 
1853 ^^""^ exodus of enthusiastic 
emigrants from the states to the 
Pacific slope had reached its height. Not only had 
the wonderful gold deposits of California been de- 
veloped, but the remarkable agricultural resources 
of the ^\■hole western slope had been demonstrated 
and an all absorl)ing interest in that far off Eldorad(^ 
and land of sunshine per\'ade(l the entire country, 
more marked perhaps throughout the AIississipi)i 
valley where thousands looked longingly towards 
that Golden Sunset Land, finally to turn resolutely 
^^^estward Ho, all undaunted by the besetting dan- 
gers of the o\-erland journey or the perils of the 
tedious voyage around Cape Elorn. Among these 
mv husband and I decided upon the former mode 
of travel as l)eing the quicker and perhaps less dan- 
gerous. 

Blessed with the fearlessness of youth we started 
braxeh' forth to seek fortune and a new home with 
but slight conception of the dangers, difficulties and 



Pen Pictures of Early U'cslerii Ihiys. 53 

hardships we were to encounter and knowing httle 
of the sterner reahties of hfe upon tlie more remote 
frontier. 

Tlie time of our departure was in the spring of 
the year as early as the weatlier would permit. 

The pre\-ious winter months were spent hy my- 
self in hnsy pre])arations for the journey, in con- 
triving suitable clothing for my husband, myself 
and for my little boy of a year old and in putting 
up such preserves, pickles and other delicacies as 
could be kept to become most accei)table when after- 
wards compelled to partake of cold meals as we 
often were throughout our trip. 

Aside from these the provisions were such as 
were used in army life and consisted of ham, bacon, 
smoked beef and venison, crackers, hard bread and 
flour, tea. coffee and sugar, beans, rice, lard and 
butter, molasses, ^■inegar and other condiments. No 
vegetables were taken, the process of canning being 
then unknown, but a large fruit cake was put in 
for high feasts, together with wine, brandy and 
medicine. 

My husband occupied most of the winter in pur- 
chasing a drove of cattle and such horses as he 
would need, in breaking oxen to the yoke and in 
fitting up the wagons of the outfit, three in number, 
which w^ere worthy of description. 

They were strong and heavy, not unlike those 
in present use on the farm and often met with on 



54 Pen Pictures of Early JVrslcrn Days. 

countr}' roads. The wai^on boxes were divided into 
conipartnieiits and packed with tlie suppHes not in 
daily use, and al)ove these they were floored or 
decked o\er. d'o these decks were attached the l)ows 
upon which were stretched hea\y (hick covers. 

To this extent the wagons were identical, ex- 
cepting mine, which was called the house wagon, 
to which a more extended description will he ac- 
corded later. The baggage wagon was stored with 
bedding and articles in daily use consisting mainly 
of the camping outfit, tent, stove, etc., extra yokes 
and chains with two large cans for carrying water 
on the desert. These with the additionof the drov- 
ers' l)aggage filled every a^'ailable space. 

The second wagon was reserved to the use of 
Dr. and Mrs. Galland, my uncle and aunt, who had 
decided at a late moment to accompany us, being 
unwilling that I should undertake the journey with 
no other woman in the party. This was made as 
comfortable as possible, in fact quite cosy. The 
third, the house wagon, differed only from the oth- 
ers only in construction of the decking which ex- 
tended out over the wheels, making the interior 
quite roomy. Its width accommodated a large hair 
mattress and bed with pillows, bolsters, etc. Back 
of these at the head of the bed was room for a side 
saddle and a large box for clothing, which could 
be used for a tal)le when meals were taken in the 
wagon. .\t the forward end was a wide spring seat 



Pen Pictures of Early IVcstcrn Pays. 55 

with cushions and 1)iiffal() rohcs. The forward coni- 
l)artment beneath the deck was made reaihly acces- 
sil)le ])}■ means of a trap door, where we always 
kept some provisions and such articles as mii^-ht be 
needed in an emergency, with a small can of water 
sufficient for two days' consumption. The back 
board was arranged to let down with chains so as 
to form a cupboard ^^•herein were stored provisions 
for dail}- use, and was most convenient wdien pre- 
paring meals. The wagon top was lined with thick 
comforts making it impervious to wind and weather, 
and from the center swung a large lantern. Along 
the sides were long boxes like window gardens 
where were kept sewing materials and A-arious odds 
and ends dear to the housewife's heart. Above these 
suspended to the bows by straps hung a shot gun 
with tiasks and horns of amunition. The fire arms 
were kept loaded until an accidental discharge of 
the guii engendered a greater degree of caution, but 
of this more anon. We are yet many days and 
hundreds of miles from this point in our chronicle, 
and it were ill to anticipate. 

By the first of ,\pril everything was in readi- 
ness and the party made up, consisting of my uncle 
and aunt, my husband and myself and little boy, 
five drovers and a young- German cook ; in all ten 
adults and one child. Some few days were spent 
in arranging the last details and on the fifth of the 
month the start was made. 



56 Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 

Tlie (lay ^\■as anything l)nt ausi)ici()iis, the chill 
east \\ ind blew a gale and the occasional gleams of 
sunshine that struggled through the dull and leaden 
sky only served to accentuate the glooiiiy and bleak 
desolation that pervaded the scene. lUit the hearts 
of the little band were brave and hopeful and the 
farewells were cheerily said. The wagons were 
started in the forenoon in charge of the men going 
out some ten miles to a point where the cattle were 
herded, and my uncle and aunt with JNIr. Ivins and 
myself and baby boy went out later to spend the 
night at the farm house and be read}- for an early- 
start in the morning. 

The following" morning, April sixth, the regular 
line of march was taken up and the e\-entful journey 
of many months of danger, hardship and privation 
was well under way. 

Heading the little train was the house wagon, 
then followed respectively the wagon of my uncle 
and aunt, the baggage wagon and lastly the cattle, 
a hundred of them with the drovers in the saddle. 
Everything was new and bright and during the first 
few days presented quite an imposing appearance. 

The roads were almost impassable ; for weeks 
it had rained almost unremittingly and they had 
become rivers and lakes of mud and mire that be- 
came worse as the train pushed on. Ten miles a 
day was the greatest possible distance made, and 
half the time Avas spent in doubling teams, which 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ'estcni Days. 57 

woaild make ten yoke of oxen to a wag-on. to ])n11 
them out of the mud holes and ruts while the rain 
came down in torrents. 

The train halted at night where good pasture 
could be obtained for the stock, the family stopping- 
at farm houses with the drovers camping', for whom 
Carl, the (German cook, prepared meals. 

(3n Sunday. Ai)ril ninth, we reached Oskaloosa. 
the drive through town being made as the church 
bells were ringing for morning ser^•ice. The sound 
filled my heart with longing for friends at home 
who were worshiping in the dear little church which 
would know us no more for years, but no regrets 
were spoken and we mo\-ed on at a snail's pace. 

To add to the general depression my little lx)y 
was attacked with congestion of the lungs and the 
train laid by at a place called What Cheer with but 
small hopes of his recovery, but fortunately mv 
uncle was a skillful physician and brought him 
through when death seemed almost inevitable. We 
were not comfortable at the inn and my uncle 
thought best to move on and carry the little one on 
a pillow, so we proceeded on our wa}'. some one 
walking and carrying him for many days. How- 
ever, the change seemed to be of benefit and he re- 
covered rapidly. 



5^ Pen ricluvcs of Early Jl'rstcni Pays. 



CHAPTER IX. 








TIE State of Iowa is tlirce liiiiidred 
miles across, the road IcadinL^" up 
a di\ide lietween two or tliree 
inland streams and tlirough a 
fine country, but still made 
dreary by the cold rains of the 
early spring. Passing farms and 
villages, fording creeks and fer- 
rying rivers, April seventeenth we reached the Fa- 
bian ri\er, where for the tirst time it was necessary 
t(j camp and sleep in the wagons. Here Mr. Ivins 
found.it advisable to substitute fresher oxen, for 
those driven were very tired. It was distressing to 
witness the struggles of the poor beasts to keep from 
being yoked, but after hours of hard work it was 
accomplished and we drcnxn down a steep hill ex- 
pecting to ford the stream and dri\-e right on. What 
was our disappointment, however, to find the river 
so swollen ]>y the rains as to be impassable except in 
a dug out made of a hollow log. Here was a di- 
lemma : fortunately the cattle could swim and some 
of the men had to do the same in order to keep 
them together, but how to get the wagons and fam- 
ily over was the question. However. 'Sir. I\ins soon 
(le\-ise(l a wav. 



Unloading the lumber wagon he launched it like 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 59 

a boat, then taking the family in it he towed it some 
distance up the stream and floated it across guided 
1)}- himself in the dug out. In this way by many 
successive .trii)s the wIkiIc outht was gotten over. 
It was sundown when the last load was landed. 
My uncle, who was not much of a water man. was 
thrown into the stream h}' the upsetting of the dug 
out early in the fray, but fortunately with no serious 
consequences. The fire was made and Carl got 
supper while ni}- aunt and I made the beds and 
cared for the baby for the night, and a more weary 
party ne\-er sought their downy couches. 

The next few days were quite monotonous, the 
usual routine in camp and the steady gait of the 
oxen on the rc^ad brought us to Council Bluffs April 
twenty-first where we stopped a short distance out 
of the town pasturing the drove, while the family 
staid at the farm house and the men camped in the 
yard. Here we remained nine days. 

Not being' suited with his help, Mr. Ivins changed 
here for an entirely new set of men, all excepting 
Carl, and the final preparations were made, for our 
road now lay beyond civilization. 

After a good rest at Council Bluff's we were 
quite ready for the forward mo^'e and on the morn- 
ing of May first the little train was again in motion, 
driving through the streets of the town and across 
the wide flat to the Missouri river to be ferried 
over. 



6o Pen Pictures of Early U'cstcni Days. 

On reaching the Hat we fcnmd. h()\\e\-er, that 
tliere were at least five InuKh'ed wagons before ns 
with thonsands of cattle waiting to cross and 
were told that we mnst wait onr tnrn. which 
probably wonld not come for several da\s. Mv 
hnshand was in no mood for waiting, so watcliing 
his opportunit}- he rnshed in while some slower per- 
son was getting ready and before night we were on 
the Nebraska side and made onr camp where the 
city of Omaha is now sitnated. To celebrate our 
fortunate start we killed a fine calf and feasted on 
the last fresh meat we had for three months, except- 
ing occasionally when some one would kill a jack 
rabbit or a sage hen, although they were not very 
plentiful. 

At an early hour on the morning- of May second 
we took up our line of march toward the Golden 
West on the broad well beaten road, which was 
lined with vehicles of every description, cattle, 
horses, sheep and mules with men. women and chil- 
dren walking to save the beasts of burden. We 
were almost always in sight of trains for the first 
five hundred miles, further on as the roads branched 
off leading to different i)oints or passes we were 
more alone. 

It was a bright, beautiful morning and our cour- 
age was renewed h\ liaA-ing made so successful a 
start west of the Alissouri river. After luncheon 
]Mr. Tvins went ahead to arrange al)out crossing the 



Pen I'iciiircs of Early U'rslcni Days. 6r 

Elk H(jni ri\cr, whicli is the first branch (if the 
Platte on the north side, as onr road A\as to take 
ns that way. lie also would look for a convenient 
campinj^' ground for the night. He had been gone 
l)ut a short time when the sky became o\'ercast and 
a fearful storm arose with wind, rain and hail which 
came down in torrents. The train had to be stopped 
and the oxen turned around to be sheltered b\- the 
wagons, while the men crept under them \ov i)ro- 
tection. I was lying down with m}- little boy un- 
heeding the storm and was singing as was m}- usual 
habit, but could hear the poor dro\-ers below me 
complaining' and bewailing" their lot in no mild 
terms. Suddenly one of them exclaimed, "By 
George! if she ain't a singin'." Aly song ceased at 
once: not so ^^■ith the storm which lasted over an 
hour : then the sun came out and we proceeded on 
our journey but did not reach Elk Horn till after 
dark, where we found Air. Ivins waiting for us 
and anxious at our delay. He had selected a good 
camp ground and we were soon arranged for the 
night, but had to be content with a cold supper as 
we had nothing for fuel, b'rom this on for hundreds 
of miles our only fuel was sage brush and bulYalo 
chips which are anything but pleasant to burn. 

.As soon as Air. Ivins came into the wagon he 
said: "Well, whom do }(iu think are here? The 
Crams. 1 ha\e just come from their tent ^\ here 1 
left Mrs. Cram with her dress tucked up around 



62 Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 

her slatxling- on the only dry spot in the tent hohUnij^ 
a bird cage and the girl trying to get supper." Now 
the Cram train had l)een a source of much worry 
to me and so deserves a s])ecial exi)1anation. 



Pen Pic hires of Early H'cslcni Pays. 63 



CHAPTER X. 




T\. Cram's train consisted of a party 
from our home town of Keokiiiv 
and was composed of six per- 
sons besides drivers and serv- 
ants. Tlie}' were Mr. and Mrs. 
Cram, Mr. and Mrs. George, 
and r\lr. and Mrs. Neuse. The 
first two ladies were sisters and 
had been dear friends of mine from childhood. Dur- 
ing the winter we had planned to go west together. 
But as Mr. Ivins arranged to take a drove of cattle 
and Mr. Cram wanted to go with horses and spend 
less time on the trip, we gave up traveling together, 
only promising to see as much of each other as 
possible on the first part of the journey, but of 
course later on we would be far behind. Three 
months would be the limit to their tri]), while to 
ours there was none, with ever}' prospect of a 
tedious journey. 

The contrast was just as great between our 
mode of preparation, ddieir train consisted of three 
large heavy covered spring wagons painted black, 
such as were used by the old stage lines for mud 
w-agons in winter. They were somewhat like an 
ambulance but opened at the side with the driver's 
scat in front. There were folding Ijcds inside, 



64 Pen Pictures uf Early U'cstcni Days. 

leavini;" room for small chairs and sewing' tables, 
work baskets, bird cai^es and prett}- knick knacks 
around; and the women were tastefnll}- dressed, 
and had a g'ood girl to do the cooking, and taking all 
together they were very stylish. ]\lr. Crani rode a 
white mule \\ith jingling accutrements, and they 
had an elegant marcjuee tent and camp ecpiipage 
which was carried in a lumber wagon, and all were 
drawn by fine horses ; and really they were "no end 
of swell," and the contrast worried me not a little. 

The ladies of the [jarty did not cross the state 
of Iowa in the wagons, but went to St. Louis by 
boat and thence up the Missouri riAcr on the large 
steamer Kentucky which was owned b)' Airs. 
Cram's father, he taking it to Council Bluffs to l)e 
used as a ferry boat during the rush of emigration. 
They had been at Council Bluffs two weeks. Their 
journey so far had l>een a pleasure trip (^nly, as 
thev had remained on the boat waiting for the water 
to' sul)side. Their wagons were ferried across the 
same dav with ours, but l^efore noon They had 
driven out as far as Elk HcM^n where they were 
again waiting their turn to be ferried over. This 
might not come for days as there were hundreds 
there before them Wciiting for the same thing. 

The river had overflowed its banks and the 
water extended for miles on the other side i>f the 
river. So far we seemed the ukm'c fortunate, and 
1 (|uitc congratulated m}sclf thai my house was 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ\'slcni Days. 65 

at least dry, althiiui;h it had only a duck a^ver. 
My little Dutchman was becoming- most reliable and 
trustworthy and not at all afraid of the \\eather. 
While on the road he took care of my little boy, 
and in camp took entire charge ; and I will say now 
that he was a true, faithful friend when friends were 
scarce, ne\-er faltering in his affectionate care for me 
and mine. May success and hapi)iness attend him 
wherever he may be. 

W'e retired early and after a good night's rest 
awoke bv times in the morning; upon looking out 
I saw a perfect sea of white wagon tops and 
exclaimed: "Oh! Ave shall be so long waiting our 
turn to be ferried over." ]My husband replied : "I 
do not intend to wait," and started out to recon- 
noiter ; soon returning in great haste, he said : "If 
you will hurry we can get across before any one 
else is ready." Things were just thrown into the 
wagons, and we were so fortunate as to be the first 
to be ferried, because we were for once the early 
birds. Mr. Ivins then went back and had the cattle 
driven into the stream some distance below^ w here, 
by keeping them away from the shore, they at last 
struck out for the other side, soon reaching- it in 
safety, where the drovers herded them till the 
wagons were ready to start. 

We drove on about h\c miles to high ground 
where we camped for the rest of the day, but no 
Cram train came in sight for four or live days. The 



66 Pen Pictures of Early U'rslcrii Paxs. 

next stream to cross was Loup J'"oi"k, the second 
longest 1)rancli of the Platte; this we did, however, 
without ditticulty. The cattle had learned what 
was expected of them when driven into the water, 
and at once made for the other shore where we 
cam])ed for that nig'ht. 

The morning' of r\Iay hfth saw us mo\-ing on at 
the usual rate of ahout twenty-five miles a dav. We 
stopped at noon for luncheon after which I decided 
to ride on horse hack, wdiich I often did in the earlier 
stages of the journey. ]\Iy uncle rode most of the 
time, so I always had company. After I had 
mounted Mr. Ivins asked me to go and start up 
some of the drove which had lagged. The horse 
knew just h<n\- t(^ do that so it would he no trcniljle. 
I saAv that the saddle girth needed tightening and 
called to one of the men to come and fix it. He 
ran towards me throwing up his hands and calling 
me to hold on. This startled the horse which at 
once Ijegan stepping backwards, the saddle slipping 
w ith every step, and before I could stop him I was 
on the ground with his great hoof just coming down 
on my face. ~Sly arm was up holding on to the 
bridle. I let go of this and pushed his foot with 
all my might, taking the skin off my arm from the 
elbow to the wrist. I succeeded, however, in keep- 
ing him from stepping full on my face, but for 
weeks I was greatly disfigured with my blackened 
eyes and swollen nose. INIy ride was postponed for 



Pen Pichirrs of Early 1 Vest cm Days. 6y 

that day; the excitnient was great in the small 
party for 1 was a most important personage in their 
estimation, especially that of my hushand, for we 
were like l)oy and girl starting ont to seek onr 
fortunes, I being at that time (MiIv twenty, and he 
just a few years older. A few days afterwards, 
however. 1 would have my ride, making another 
attempt in company with my uncle. The guide 
hook said that after leaving Loup Fork there were 
no more trees for five hundred miles. A\> were 
quite skeptical and were sure that a clump of green 
some distance from the road must be trees, so we 
proceeded to investigate, riding off in great glee. 
It proved to be a ledge of rocks covered with bushes, 
and to our consternation an immense gray wolf 
A\-alked out to meet us. \Yt were not sIoav in getting 
back to the road, quite A\illing in the future to accept 
the guide book. 

The w hole country as far as the eye could reach 
was composed of low sand hills covered with coarse 
grass, cactus and sage brush, Avith the Platte on one 
side, along whose banks the road led most of the 
time. A\'e could see the emigrant trains on the road 
on the south side of the river. On one occasion, 
looking across we saw a large herd of buffalo come 
rushing down a hill towards the river, trampling 
down l3oth train and people in its mad career, and 
on into the river before they could escape. Many 



68 Pen Piclurcs of Early Ji'cslcni Days. 

persons must lia\e been injured, but we could not 
ascertain if such a\ ere the case. 

The I'latte is a most ]jeculiar ri\er. ( )n stoo]i- 
in^- down and looking" across tlie water seems to 
round up hke an o\'er-hlled goljlet, and has a smoky 
taste like Inickskin tanned l)y the Indians. 

We were in the midst of the rainy season, and 
ever\- afternoon were treated to the most terrific 
thunder storms I e^■er witnessech which came up 
al>ont four o'clock, the thunder and lightning snap- 
ping and cracking around like whip c(^rds. Unless 
we camped earl}- sujiper \\as out of the question, 
and on many nights a cold eolation had to satisfy us. 
One night in particular the storm was so violent 
that the men could not guard the cattle. Since 
lea\'ing Loup Fork we had been warned to beware 
of Indians and it was safer to have a guard, but this 
night it was given u]). AA'e seemed to be right in 
among the clouds, and in the morning' passed two 
newl\- made graves of men \\-ho were killed b}- light- 
ning the night ])efore. We traveled on at the usual 
rate for several days without incident. Neither 
Carl r)r I knew how to make bread, and \ve were 
verv tired of batter cakes and poor, heavy biscuits. 
One evening we camped near a very nice looking 
family. The woman was leaking bread and it looked 
most tempting. I thought, what a fine thing it 
would be if we could ha\e such bread. .So 1 took 
coura^'c and crdlcd on m\- neighbor of tlie night to 



Pen I' id lives of Early U'cslcni Days. 69 

ask for information. Slie seemed cjnite willing to 
teach me and i»a\e me some yeast with instructions 
how to use it. As I never kept house it was not 
strange that 1 did not know. We had thrown our 
stove away and had no way to hake except in a 
reflector and the w ind alwaws hlew into that wliich- 
evcr way it came, making things taste of sage, and 
the lla\-or was an^-thing hut good; all of which I 
stated in pretty strong terms. She then ottered me 
a Dutch oven which she said was too large for her 
use. which I gladly accepted. She also supliecl me 
with yeast sufficient to last me all summer with 
care. I went home in triumph; sent Carl after the 
I^utch o^'en, and at once proceeded to try my hand 
at the new method. I did just as my kind neighhor 
directed, and in the morning had two loaves of ele- 
gant l)read which Carl haked hy making little fires 
of sage twigs on the lid and under the oven, which 
did not look as if they were doing any good, but 
the bread came out a beautiful brown. After that 
Carl improved on the teacher, made his sponge and 
Ijread over night, punched it down a little in the 
morning and baked one loaf while he was getting 
breakfast and another while we were eating and 
getting ready to start. I never saw such bread or 
tasted any as good before, and never expect to again. 
Upon the whole we were having rather a good time ; 
were all well, were becoming inured tO' privations, 
and things were moving along quite satisfactorilv. 



70 /'('// ficliirc'S of Early U'cslcni Days. 



CHAPTER XL 




Y this time we had readied a point 
opposite (Iraiid Island, Nel). 
After a long- day's drive, had 
camped near the river, snpper 
Avas ()\-er, the o-uards statione(h 
and we had all retired with no 
expectation of danger or harm. 
All was qniet until about mid- 
night, when suddenly without any warning" or ap- 
parent cause, the whole one hundred head of cattle 
started up, went wild and stampeded, running right 
over the guards in their frenzy, and were off like 
the wind. The noise was like the roar of Niagara 
for a few minutes, and then all was silent. The 
guards followed and the other men joined in the 
chase, leaving my uncle and aunt and me cjuite alone 
in the camp. After hours of running they brought 
back aliout sixty, all the others having escaped 
entirelv. There was no more sleep for them or us 
that night. The poor creatures seemed perfectly 
terror stricken;, and it took the wdiole force to keep 
them from rushing off again, ^^'hen daylight came, 
however, their fears seemed to subside. As soon as 
it was light in the morning jMr. Ivins prepared to 
go in search of those that were lost. Selecting his 
most reliable man, Clark by name, he made ready for 



l\-}i Picliircs of Rarly Jl'cslrni Pays. yi 

a three clays' journey. No entreaties of mine could 
dissuade him and he assured me there was no dan- 
g'er, hut 1 could not l)e conxinced. After exhaustin.q- 
all ])crsuasi()n in vain I had Carl ])ut u]) a lirunper 
of food, as nmch as they could carry, for the horses 
were so ciMupletely worn out with the nig-ht's chase 
tliat they were ohliged to j^-o on foot. So takini>' 
the hamper and a roll of hiankets thev de])arted on 
their perilous expedition, (loing- directly away from 
the road they plunged at once into the wild unex- 
plored countr}', filled with huffalo. wolves and the 
more terrible hostile Indians. It was with a heavy 
heart I saw' my husband start on that fearful jour- 
ne}'. but to him fear was unknown, and he laughed 
at my anxiety. They soon found the trail of the 
cattle, which they followed steadily all day, at night 
sleeping- on the ground. As soon as it was light 
they resumed their way, at a rapid gait, still keeping 
their eyes on the ground and beginning to have 
hopes of overtaking them. 

They had walked in this way till about four 
o'clock in the afternoon, when for some cause Mr. 
Ivins raised his head, and glancing around he saw 
silently following them five Indians, and exclaimed : 
"My God, Clark, look at the Indians !" 

The savages on seeing- that they were discovered, 
drew up their guns and took aim at the two men. 
but did not fire, as my husband beckoned to them 
to come near. They rushed up and danced a war 



^2. Pen Piciinrs of Early JJ^'eslcni Days. 

dance around their prisoners, whooping and velhng- 
hke mad. Mr. Ivins pretended to tliink them 
friendly and exi)lained to them Ijv signs that he 
was hnnting cattle, representing the horns and man- 
ner of running. They gave liim to understand 
that they had seen them in a certain direction, and 
ordered tlie two men to move on with them. My 
husband refused but they pointed their guns at them 
again, in a most threatening manner, and lie con- 
chided that "discretion was tlie l)etter part of valor," 
so they walked on until the sun was almost down. 
Again Mr. Ivins halted and signified his intention of 
having supper, and began building a fire. The In- 
dians still insisted upon his g'oing on. but he would 
not look at them and pretended not to understand. 
As soon as the fire blazed up one of the Indians 
kicked it out and cocking his gun ordered Mr. Ivins to 
march in no gentle terms, so on they went till almost 
dark and the usual storm was arising, hlnally, 
reaching a small creek where there were willows, 
they held a council and deciding to camp began cut- 
ting" willows for a wigwam. Mr. Ivins was hea\"ily 
armed with a six shooter and large bowie knife and 
he at once began cutting Avillows, using his bowie 
knife which was bright and sharp. One of the 
Indians wanted to take it. Mr. Ivins gave it to him 
as a matter of course. He examined it closely, then 
taking a willow sapling cut it into small pieces, 
exclaiming with every stroke, "Whoo!" After my 
husband thought he had used it long enough, he 



Pen Piclurcs of Early JJ'rslcni Pay. 



73 



look it and ag-ain assisted in 1)iiildino- the wis'wani. 
Tlie frame w(^rk beino- fmislied they took A[r. Tvins' 
blankets to hne it and made c|uite a shelter. How- 
ever, it was small protection against the Nebraska 
storms. The Indians then examined the ham])er 
and tdok what food they wanted, discardino- the 
l)ork, which they called "coche," bnt eating- all Ihc 
other kinds. Snpper over, they went into the wig- 
wam taking their prisoners with them, and laid 
down placing the two men between them. 

By this time the rain came down in torrents 
and the water was soon six inches deep where they 
lay. The Indians with scanty clothing suffered 
terribly, grunting and groaning constantly. It was 
as dark as Egypt and as dreary. In the middle of 
the night, without the slightest apparent cause, thev 
gave simultaneously the most terrific whoop, and 
sprang- up dragging their captives out of the wig- 
wam with the evident intention of dispatching them. 
As soon as they were released Mr. Ivins told Clark 
to get back into the wigwam as rapidly as possible, 
and he did tlie same. One of the Indians remained 
in the wigwam, and to this circumstance they prob- 
ably owed their lives at that time, as had they fired 
into the tent they were in danger of killing their 
partner. In a little while the rascals crept back and 
laid down, but there was no more sleep. 

^\'hen the sun rose bright and clear thev got up 
and made a breakfast out of the provisions left in 



74 ^t''' Piditrcs of Early JJ\\s^lrni Pays. 

the hani])cr. but seemed in no luirry to resume their 
journey. One of their nnml>er amused liimself by 
representini^' to ^\v. Tvins Imw the\" would shoot and 
seal]) them, ^oin^" throu,^ii the motic^ns witli ij'reat 
g'usto. Ah". Kins ])reten(led to think it a joke and 
lauf^'lied with liini. d"he\' asked how manv times 
his revoh'er would shoot, and he ex])lained that it 
was one more times than there were Indians. 

A I}' husb;md instructed Clark tliat if an attack 
were made upon them that he should jump at one 
Indian and gTab his gun, shoot another and 
that lie would manage the other three. The y\\- 
lains. however, knew nothing of this. About eleven 
o'clock in the morning Mr. Ivins made up his mind 
that it was time to g-et away, so endeavored to make 
them understand that he nmst go- to his wife and 
baby on the road. 

He showed them his ammunition, and proceeded 
to divide with them, giving to each and shaking the 
flasks to show that he had gi\'en them an equal 
share. He also to(jk a paper of pins, which he had 
in his pocket, giving some to each one; they were 
so pleased with these, sticking them all over their 
blankets. 

He now directed Clark to take down the Ijlankets 
and roll them up and be read}' to start. One of the 
Indians wanted part of one of the blankets for leg- 
gings; upon Clark refusing" to let him have it he 
liecame greatly enraged. ]\Ir. Ivins seeing this took 



Pen Picitiirs of lutrly U'cslcni Days. 75 

llic hlanket from Clark as if he, too, were offended 
and cnt in two just as his lionor wanted, i2:ivins- him 
his choice of tlie pieces, upon whicli he hccame much 
interested in arranging- them, and went some little 
distance off. This one seemed to he the chief and 
was the most o\-erbearing. 

Mr. I\ins now saw that this was their oppor- 
tunity, so told Clark to start on and not look hack. 
As he started my husband .shook hands with each 
one, said good-bye and walked after his companion. 
He went rapidly, not looking back for fear of orders 
to return, but expecting a bullet e^•ery minute; 
neverthless kept straight on until he was beyond 
gunshot, when, glancing back, he saw the Indians 
huddled together talking and wildly gesticulating, 
all excepting the cross one who was still engaged 
with his costume. Just then the two men went over 
a small rise of ground; they immediately started 
into a run and kept that pace for many miles. AIv 
husband was convinced that the Indians fully 
intended to shoot them, but were deterred from 
doing so by his kindly treatment of them. Of 
course, if they had looked back and disobeyed orders 
it would ha\e given an excuse for firing upon them. 




76 . Pc}i Pictures of Early JJ\\s'fcrii Pays. 

CHAPTER X IT. 

IIJ, (la\- llie two men steadily pnr- 
sned their way, having" gixen up 
the idea of going" further to look 
for the cattle, which were tc")o 
far away by this time. All da}' 
they walked over plains and 
sand hills covered with sage 
brush and cactus, until their feet 
ahiiost gave out and their boots became unbearable. 
Mr. Ivins discarding his walked in his stocking feet 
till they were worn out. and then in his bare feet, 
which were filled with the needles of the cactus. 
Still they toiled on, passing hundreds of l)uffalo 
who would just look at them, and not quit grazing 
or even rise if lying" down. 

j\ir. Ivins had taken his course ttnvards Platte 
river, guided onlv by the wind. It was a cloudy 
afternoon and he had no other means (^f judging 
the points of the compass. A dozen times Clark 
stopped, refusing to proceed further in that direc- 
tion, declaring that they were g'ling away from 
the road, but as niy husband kept on he would 
follow, not daring to be left alone or wishing" to 
desert his companion. 

About nine o'clock that night they found the 
road, striking" it about hfteen miles ahead of where 



Pen Pichircs of Early Ji'csfern Days. /y 

tliev Icfl us. Mr. Ivins directed us 1)et()rc leavin£^ 
that we sliduld tra\el alxmt li\e miles each da_\- 
duriin^- liis al)sence. not aiitici])atiiig- the difficuUies 
tliat would heset us. The first day we had i^one 
the allotted distance and camped ai^ain on the hank 
of the river. Supper was over, and as all seemed 
{[uiet we felt ([uite secure ; hut for fear (^f another 
stampede we had stationed the wagons at rigiit 
angles with the river, that forming one side, with 
chains fastened securely from the wheels of the 
three, thus making a sort of fence, the open side 
to he guarded hy the men ; then I had twehe yoke 
of oxen yoked up and chained to the wheels. Into 
the hollow sfjuare I had the cattle and horses driven. 
The guards took their places and the family went 
to their quarters. I could not sleep, so did n(Jt go 
to hed and was reading'. Ahout midnight, just 
as the night hefore, there was a sudden rush, right 
over the guards and away went the cattle again 
like the wind. Those chained to the wheels ripped 
and tore in their mad frenzy, and I thought they 
would take the wheels off in their terror, l)ut they 
were securely chained and after a while calmed 
down. It was not a pleasant experience to he in 
the wagons while they tugged with such force as 
to almost pull them to pieces. \\'hen they hecame 
f[uiet I looked out. Nothing was to be seen or 
heard hut the breathing of the poor frightened crea- 
tures ; all the others were gone and the men follow- 
ing on horses and on foot. Towards morning they 



78 Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 

came drixing' them all back, none ha\ing t^otten 
away that night. 

We had an early breakfast and started, thinking 
it l)etter to have them on the road than to sta\- in 
one place. As yet there was no news of n\\ Imsband 
and I was very uneasy about him. The ])oor ani- 
mals were nearl}- worn out, so we took a long rest 
at noon, then made a short tlri\e and camped some 
distance from the ri\er, quite near the road. That 
night, with the exception of the regular storm w hich 
was not severe, was more restful to the most of the 
train, but my anxiety increased when no word came 
from m}' husband who was out in that desolate 
country in such great danger. 

The next day we made the appointed Ih'e miles. 
camping as before, but away from the river, near the 
road. The cattle were becoming more quiet, and 
we hoped that the worst was over, but before we 
could have supper the usual storm broke in all its 
fury. The tent was blown dow. the thunder and 
lightning' were so terrific that the men could not 
g'uard the stock, the rain and hail came down 
in sheets and darkness settled down on us like a 
|)all. ]\Iy poor husl)and was away with no protec- 
tion. \vhere I did not know, and my distress cannot 
be described. If there were only something that I 
could do it might be some relief, so I tried to keep 
a beacon light for him, A\ith a lantern raised on a 
w^agon tongue, which the wind blew down as often 
as we propped it up. 



Pen riciurc.s' of Early ircslrni Days. 79 

After a ^vhile tlie camp l)ecanie silent and the 
gloom (leepenetl. .Mone with my baby boy in the 
wagon I fnlly realized the sitnation, and was certain 
that I should never see my husband again. As tlie 
hours W(irc on I became almost frantic. M\' aunt 
hearing my sobs tried to comfort me with loving 
words, but both she and my uncle were old people 
and could not come to me in the fearful storm. 

]\Iv senses were unusually acute and about two 
o'clock I thought that I heard a faint hello. I lis- 
tened; it Avas repeated, and now surely it was a call. 
I sprang to the front of my wagon, dashed up the 
curtain and shouted with all the strength of my 
not weak lungs, again and again ; and truly it was 
a call nearer, and I knew the voice of my poor hus- 
band. It was some little time before they reached 
the camp, and when he came into the wagon our 
meeting was very silent. We could not talk then, 
and it was a long time before he told me of all his 
dreadful trip and truly wonderful escape. 

I got out drv clothes for him, l)athed his head, 
and oiled his face which was blistered, bathed his 
poor feet, and tried in every way to make him com- 
fortable. He was utterly worn out, and it took 
manv days to pick the cactus needles out of his feet. 
In the morning he told me of his narrow escape, 
and I said then for the first and only time, "Let us 
go back ;" but he replied, "No. we will go on to- 
morrow." So we again took up our journey with 



8o Pen Pictures uf Early JVesferu Days. 

\\Iiat \\as left of our fine herd, thankful to be to- 
g'ctlicr once more. 

^\'e were then nearing Chimney Rock, wliich 
is an immense shaft of granite resembhng a smoke 
stack, on the south side of Platte river, in sight of 
which we traveled five days. The river here makes 
a great bend, the road still leading up its banks. 
The cattle were growing footsore and weary and 
every dav we feared that some of them would give 
out. The air was filled with odors that were not 
of "Aral)y the Blest," the road being lined with 
carcasses of dead animals, and I had to carry my 
camphor bottle in my hand most of the time. I had 
a serious cause of anxiety at this time, although 
not personally concerned. Some stock dealers in 
California had sent east for ten thousand sheep, 
which were being driven overland in charge of hired 
drovers. They had started with them on the south 
side of the Platte, but finding very poor grass 
determined to try the other side. At the head of 
Grand Island, Nebraska, they attempted to swim 
the sheep across. The flock becoming frightened, 
rushed onto the island which was under water, and 
no eft'orts could get them off for twenty-four hours. 
Standing in the water so long made their feet tender, 
and as soon as thev stei)[)ed into the alkalie dust 
thev became .sore and many of the ])<)or creatures 
laid down in the road, refusing to go any further, 
and had to be left. They were immediately ahead 



Pen Pictures of Early W'eslcrn Days. 8i 

of us, and e\'cr}" iiKirning" we would ])ass the remains 
of those that the wolves had dex'oured the night 
hefore. AH da}- we would drixe past the little crea- 
tures knowing Avhat to expect for them. It dis- 
tressed me heyond measure. A week's rest would 
hax'e saved them, hut the men would not wait, so 
rushed them on. leaving from twenty to hft}- a day 
for iwo or three weeks. 1 hegged so h;u'd to sa\e 
one little lamh that my hushand was willing, so 
1 took it into the wagon, washed its feet, oiled and 
w ra])pe(l them up. thinking that 1 xvas going to 
ha\e a tine pet, hut it was too large to keep in such 
close quarters. It would not e\en try to walk, so 
I was ohliged to leaxe it. and another monster of 
a grey wolf had a feast that night. 



82 I'cii I'iciurcs of Early ll'cstcni F\iys. 



CH ALTER Xili. 




T WAS iiDW the latter part of June. 
\\'e had reached a point of tlie 
ri\-er opposite Fort Laramie, 
w liere we turned ofT the Platte, 
wliich we had foho\\ed up to 
this time, into ^vllat tlie i;uide 
lK)ok called the Black Hills. 
Ascending' a steep hill, we drove 
onto a small, le\el plateau and camped. I walked to 
one side and looking" down a i)reci])ice saw a deep 
gorge with the river tumbling" and dashing" through, 
with none of the cahn. gentle flow we had witnessed 
for weeks. This was our last sight of the IMatte 
river. Here the iirst antelope and mountain goats 
were in sight, hut kept at a safe distance. 

When the morning came the wind was blowing 
a gale, making travehng" impossible. All day we 
Avere shut up in the wagon with the curtains fast- 
ened closely down, with everything" outside anchored 
to the rocks, and the men in a ravine some distance 
away guarding" cattle. It was a day to l)e remem- 
bered, and we were glad when the sun went down. 

The following" morning was like spring and we 
g'ot off in good season, now coming into the moun- 
tains in earnest. We halted at noon on the l)ank 
of a beautiful little stream called Goose creek. It 



Pen Pictures of Early ]\'cstcrn Days. 83 

\\as iilled with speckled trout. Mr. Ivins took out 
tackle aud wcut tisliiui;-. I went, too, but talked 
so nuicli that he became diss^-usted and sent nie off. 
Xot haxing" any more fishing" tackle 1 fixed U)) a 
thread and pin hook, and to my great surprise 
caught a lot of little beauties l)ef(jre he had a bite. 
We staid some hours, until we had caught a fine fry 
for su])])er, and reluctantly left the spot. Among 
our dro\"e was an immense red ox, too large to 
ycjke and we had no mate for him. I never saw 
so large an one; he always led the drove and was 
gentle as a dog". Mr. Ixins procured a bell for him, 
to suit his size, and he carried himself with great 
dignity. He always slept near the wagons and was 
a great pet. When we crossed small streams the 
men would jump on his back and ritle o\er. There 
was something really noble about him. One evening 
]\Ir. Ivins said to me, "If we get Rouser," as we 
called him, "through, I will get a thousand dollars 
for liim." I laughed at his high figures, and we 
strolled to where the old fellow was lying down, 
resting' as we supposed. Mr. Ivins examined his 
feet and said. "I am afraid they are growing" 
tender." He looked hollow eyed and we were anx- 
ious about him, for fear he might be alaklied. The 
next day he seemed listless but kept up with the 
drove. We camped early. By this time he did not 
want to eat but seemed very thirsty, and would 
stay near the wagfjns as if he did not like to Ije 
alone. As night came on he grew worse rapidly, 



84 Pen Pictures of Early JJ'rslcni Days. 

and I)\- bed time we knew that diir jxinr dunil) friend 
was doomed, lie moaned like a luinian l)ein^" in 
l)ain and would get up and try to follow us. We 
i;-a\-e him medicine, but it did no i^-ood, and he would 
look at us ^^•ith his ^-j-eat brown eyes in the most 
appealing manner. His groans became more dis- 
tressing, and before dayliglit poor Rouser had 
crossed his last ri\-er. \A'e could not lnn"y him, so 
left him with his big bell strapi)ed around his neck. 

C)ur dro\-e of cattle was growing less, fort}- were 
Io.<t at Grand Island, some others had died, one a 
fine cow giving milk, and now we took our coffee 
l)lack. 

Lea\ing Goose Creek Mountains we traveled 
o\'er a plain co\'ered with curious formations ol 
rock, called Pulpit Rocks, from their resemblance 
to church furniture. They were from ten to twcnt\' 
feet high. ap])arenth- thrown there 1)_\' some con- 
vulsion of nature, A\ith the level plain surrounding 
them. The road wound in and out among them and 
they were ^'ery interesting. 

Julv first we came to the Sweetwater Ab)un- 
tains, and crossing the first range made our camp 
on the river of the same name, a beautiful stream, 
cold and clear as crystal. A\"e were quite near Inde- 
pendence Rock, ddus is an immense rock rising out 
of a le\el jjlain sexenty or an hundred feet high, on 
the sides of whi^-b hundreds of enngrants had cut 
their names. i'lie top, which is almost Hat, has 



rcii r id lives of Early H'cslrni Pays. 85 

an area oi three or fdiir acres and is covered with 
\e.<>-etation. It is a most sin.i^iilar liill. l)cino- almost 
l)er|)en(hcnlar on ail sides. A miml)er of men were 
liai'd at work lioistini^- a deserted wa.^on to the tup, 
intendin.i^- to roll it off to celehrate Independence 
day. so near at hand. 

The next day we went a few miles np the stream 
to Devil's Gorge, a wild and romantic ])lace. The 
huge rocks seem to ha\e separated to make room 
for the river wln'ch dashes tlirongh the deep g'orge, 
rnshing and foaming like a torrent inr half a mile, 
then spreads out into a calm, gentle river again 
with grassy hanks and pehl)ly l)ottom. We remained 
here over the Fourth, and celebrated l)v opening 
a demijohn of wine, and demolishing that, and a 
large frnit cake which was baked for the occasion 
in onr far a\\"ay Iowa home. 

Onr road led now through the mountains and 
np into the Rockies, leaving Sweetwater on the 
morning of July fifth. A\'e were reaching a high 
altitude going steadily up, although the road was 
not very steep, arriving at South Pass the same day. 
1 rode here on horseliack for the last time, past 
banks ot snow grown yellow with age. which gave 
no signs of melting, although the sun was shining 
brightly. 

.-\t this place we again overtook the Cram ])artv 
and traveled together for several days, when thev 
left us to liurrv forward. 



86 Pen richircs of Early U'cslcni nays. 

AFv uncle also decided that he should he i^-etting- 
on faster, and joined two youn^- men who were 
endeav(»ring- to make good time, thinking to try 
and reach our destination and he ready for us when 
we should get there, which wished for event seemed 
a long wav in the future. Tt was w ith a sorrowful 
heart that I saw the preparations for their departure. 
Init 1 knew it was hest. and as I had hegun to learn 
endurance I kept a l)rave face till they were (^ut of 
sight; then I gave up and felt as if T were deserted 
hv mv hest friends, and tears "made furrows in my 
g"rief-worn cheeks." 

At this time mv hushand had rather a thrilling- 
experience. Tw(i of his cattle had heen found l)y 
a train hack of us, and they had sent word for him 
to come after them. He had no difficulty in iden- 
tifying' them as they were all l)randed with hi.s 
initials. He left us one bright morning- to go back 
for them. After spending the night with the hos- 
pitable friends of his steers, he started on with them 
early in the morning. He drove quite rapidly in 
order to overtake us in the evening. He hurried 
thcni so that they were pretty tired, so stopping be- 
side the road at noon to let them graze; he staked 
out his horse, and making a pallet of his blankets 
was preparing to take a good nap. Just as he was 
comfortably settled two men rode up and said: 
"Stranger, we will just take these steers." Mr. 
Ivins sprang- up and cocking his revolver, said: 
'A\'ill YOU? Let me see you try." They attempted 



/'('// Pictures of Early Western Days. 87 

to parley but the six shooter was a powerful con- 
vincer. and tlie}- rode off with it still pointed in their 
direction, ready for service if needed. P>v tliis time 
tiie noon hour was over and Mr. hins drove tlie 
steers home in triumph, in lime to make the evening- 
meal. A\'e now hoped that we mioht reach Cali- 
fornia hy Sei)teml)er hrst. We had crossed the 
divide, the crest as it were, for from South Pass 
the streams flow west, southwest, while on this side 
of that point they flow in an opposite direction. 

Driving- over a range of mountains and de.scend- 
in a steep hill we struck Green River, this being so 
deep and rapid we ferried o\-er. There was a small 
settlement here, just the ferryman and his asso- 
ciates. 

W'q now turned southwest towards Salt Lake 
Valley, \vhere we intended to rest and recuperate 
ourselves and the stock in some of the grassy val- 
leys near the city. Soon we came into mountains 
so steep and rocky that it was all the cattle could 
do to get over them. About noon we came to the 
foot of one with a rocky surface, perfectly bald, and 
so steep that in order to climb the road the cattle 
had to be driven zigzag. My husband and I looked 
at it in dismay, for how were the dear little bov 
and I ever to reach the top of that terrible hill. 
.\fter long deliberation Mr. Ivins devised a plan. 
After hitching ten yoke of oxen to mv wagon, he 
took a rope ninety feet long, as large as my wrist, 



88 J'cn Pictures of Early ll'cslcni Days. 

with iron honks at either en(h This he fastened 
seciircl\- into the )-oke of the lead oxen, then into 
eacli successi\e }-oke till it reached the \\at^"on. in 
which J took mv seat 1)ack on the hed with ni\- 
little ])()}■ in my arms. The rope was then hi-ou^iit 
into the wagon and wrapped around ns several 
times and well fastened. Then with a man holding 
one side of the vehicle and my husband the other 
the dri\'ers urged the poor oxen up the dreadful 
roa<K where the least niisstep would have precipi- 
tated us to the l)ottom. In places the wagon just 
hung h\' the tongue, and I hung onto the rope for 
dear life, indeed. In this manner we at last readied 
the summit. The other wagon was brought up in 
the same way l)ut without any passengers. Then 
the cattle ^vere dri\en up, which took most of the 
dav. 



I'cn ricliirrs of liarly U'cslrni Pays. 89 



,CllAlTI<:k XIW 




LO\\'L^' (oilino- on wc arri\-C(l at 
lu'lio Canyon. Ilere the scenery 
is almost l)ey()n(l description. 
Tlie cliffs on either side of the 
o-orge are several hundred feet 
hig'h. Lo»^^)kino- up from the hank 
of Echo Creek the trees look like 
small shruhs. The sun onh- 
shines in its dim recesses a short time during each 
day, and in most places the walls are Cjiiite perpen- 
dicular. Echo Creek, a small mountain stream, runs 
([uite through the ra\ine. emptying into Bear Ri\'er 
at the foot. The road crosses it doizens of times, 
so that the banks were worn away by the numerous 
wag"ons and cattle going over it, and made a steep 
pitch driving" both in and out (^f it, the water being 
kept muddy from the same cause. 

\\'e had traveled all day through the magnificent 
scenery and were nearing the end of the canyon. 
The stream grew larger and the banks more steep. 
I had ridden all day and held on perseveringly at 
every crossing' and now began to be afarid that I 
should be thrown out. My husband thought that 
there could be some other \vay arranged for me 
to cross, soi I got out and stood on the l)ank 
watching the team take my wagon through an ex- 



90 Pen Picliircs of Early W'cslcru Days. 

ircmely l)a(l crossiiii^-. As it went down into tlie 
water tliere was a sudden rnnil)lint;-. and the next 
moment the lart^e bog eontaining all m\- trinkets, 
keep-sakes and the better clotiiing whieh was feadv 
for wearing when we reached our journey's end. 
])hmge(l into the creek just in front of the wheel 
which crushed into the side of the box. breaking it 
in. and the contents were scattered into the mud and 
slush. All m_\- i)retty clothes were spoiled. I 
screamed and tried to stop them, but just had to 
stand by and witness tlie destruction of \r\\ valu- 
al)le 1)ox. After we got across, the things were 
gathered up and dumped into it and all loaded into 
the lumber wagon. W'e went on a mile or two 
further and crossed Bear River, went up a small 
hill and sto])ped to examine the wreck and dry 
the clothes. Rverything was ruined be\'ond help. 
We spread them out to dry. which did not take long, 
as the stm was very hot. Mr. l\-ins mended the 
l)ox and piled them in to wait for luonths to be 
washed. We staid there all night and in the 
morning went up a long hill, where we saw some 
machines for making beet sugar which the Mor- 
mons had taken that far and then abandoned. 

Wc were now in the midst of high mountain.s. 
and in a few days passed through Emigrant Can- 
yon, coming to the top of the mountain from which 
Brigham Young first saw Salt Lake X'alley. The 
^■iew is trulv magnificent; the whole vallev lies 



/V// Pichircs of Early U'csfrrn Ihixs. 91 

stretched out licfore vou. with its xaried lines nf 
vegetation, with hikes and niDnnlains in the (hs- 
tance. I do not wonder that those poor wanderers 
thonglit it tlie Promised Land after their long, 
weary jonrneyings. The air is so ])ure and clear 
one cannot helieve that ohjects which seem (|nitc 
near may he miles awaw We remained here some 
hours to take in fully the grandeur of the scene, 
then droA'e down through the mountains and into 
one of the grassy valleys about eight miles from 
Salt Lake City, where we camped for a week, both 
men and animals enpoying the needed rest to pre- 
pare us for the still long journey. As the grass 
was fine the stock were figuratively in clover. 

Mr. Tvins spent the days in the' city visiting 
places of interest and enjoying the change, while I 
staid at the camp and had a c(uiet time, which was 
most grateful to me after the strain and anxiety 
of the past four months. My little boy here learned 
to walk for the second time after his severe illness, 
stepping" high in the tall grass. 

We also had an opportunity to get the wagons in 
order, to clean house as it were, leaving many arti- 
cles to lighten the loads. 

About the tenth of July, we again proceeded 
on our way, driving into the city and spending the 
day, my husband taking me to many places of 
interest. About sundown we drove out to the hot 
springs and marie our camp. Here there are two 



92 /'(';/ rirhtrcs of Early Wrslcni ]\i\'s. 

s])riii<4-s Cdininj^- out ni the l)asc of a Icd'^a of rocks 
at tlic riiiiit of tlie road. One is cold and 1)canti- 
fnlly clear, while the other is almost hoiling- hot. 
and only a short distance apart. The little streams 
Irom them ran across the road and em])tie(l into 
a natural l)asin. forming" a pool large enough for 
hathing" and swimming'. It was a heautiful moon* 
light night. The men decided to g-o swimming' and 
had great fun. ddie water was warm and cold 
in waves and ] could hear their shouts and laghter 
Avliene\er they struck a change of temperature. 

While at Salt Lake, Mr. Tvins thoug'ht best to 
take another man. and on looking' around for that 
purpose found a voung' man hy the nanie of Louis 
vSmith A\ho had taken passage with a train from 
Council Bluffs. Becoming' dissatisfied he left, for- 
feiting' his fare for the remainder of the way. it 
being" paid to California. 

Lie determined to work the rest r)f his journey, 
and had taken under his protection a man from 
the same compan\' much older than himself and 
was not willing' to leave hini. Louis wanted very 
much to come with us, and asked Wv. Ivins to take 
his friend. Mr. Ivins replied that he had neither 
work or ])rovision for another man. Louis asked 
^\hat food he lacked, and was told an hundred 
])oun(ls of Hour would be needed. "Well," said he. 
"I have just ten dollars left; if you will take him 
1 will give vou that to buy some." Mr. Ivins did 



Pen ricliiirs of Early U'csUtii Pays. 93 

not wish in take it but Luuis insisted that he slicjiihh 
so thev all eanie to the eami). I liked the yoiiiii^- 
Kentuekian from the hrst and we were soon fast 
friends. He was well edneated. pleasant and lull 
of fnn, niakint;- lii^iit of hardsliips, and in the midst 
of the intense realities with whieh \\e were sur- 
rounded a hai)p\' heart was a most desirable i)os- 
s ess ion. 

Our road now wound u]) the \alle)" past thrills- 
looking" farms and ranehes till we eame; to Bear 
Ixiver again. The eourse of this ri\-er being south 
and west, it makes a great bend so that the emi- 
grant road crosses it both going into and coming 
out of Salt Lake Valley. (Ireat Salt Lake lies quite 
ofT to the left some ten or twehe miles, and was in 
sight most of the time, as the road was at the foot 
of the mountains on high ground. At one of the 
farm houses we traded my side saddle for a sack 
of flour, which made us easy again in regard to- 
provisions. 

After three days' travel we crossed Bear Ri\er 
the second time camping on its banks, where we 
spent i)art of the next day. 'Jdie dust was terrible, 
a foot or more deep, and at e\-ery ste]) Hew up in 
clouds hlling the air. J was obliged to wear a \'eil 
and silk cap and stand it as best I might. 

Soon after striking iJear i\i\er we oxerlook aii 
immense dro\e of cattle, about one dmusand, \\hi':h 
were being taken to California in charge of drovers, 



94 ^'"" Pictures of Early Western Days. 

no owner being along". We had traveled all the 
forenoon in their dust and it was perfectly unbear- 
able. We all stopped for luncheon near tlie same 
])lace. After oin- party \\ere through eating, Mr. 
I\ins ordered our men to liurry and get into the 
road before them in order to go faster and so esca])e 
their dust. The drovers saw our maneuver, and 
with oaths and shouts rushed their drove into the 
road just as my wagon reached the same point. The 
excitement made the cattle wild, and the whole 
thousand rushed ofT pell mell. with m\- A\agon in 
the midst. John Gilpin's ride was tame compared 
with that. A stampede of cattle must be seen to 
be appreciated. They become perfectly reckless. 
trampling down \\hate^•er comes in their path. And 
so awa}' we all went together. I had lain down 
with my little Charley to take a nap, but sprang 
up and threw up the curtain to see what was the 
commotion. The noise was like thunder and they 
fairly shook the earth. The dust was so thick that 
all 1 could discover was a sea of backs with my 
fine yoke of oxen in the middle, and amidst it 
all was the lowing of the callle and the shouts and 
oaths of the miserable ruffians chasing the panic- 
stricken animals, who were crazed with fright. 

At the start my dri\er had jumped to the head 
of the near ox in the wheel yoke of m\- team, to 
which he hung by the horns, constantlx- calling 
whoa. The faithful creatures were thrown back 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 95 

on ihcir haunches and were 1)eini^" (h'agged by the 
four front )-oke. We rushed on in tliat wa}- for 
more than a mile, my team, keeping" straight in 
the mid(he of the road. In one place we went 
through a deep ditch where the least dexiation would 
ha\'e o\"erturned the wagon, hut m_\- trusty team 
never swerved. After what seemed hours the com- 
bined efforts of the dri\er and those two noble oxen 
l)rought us to a slower pace, and the dro\e got be- 
yond us, still running. We hnally came to a stand- 
still, and in a few minutes my husband o\ertook us 
pale with afright, to tind Charlie and me clasped 
in each others arms, most thankful to have escaped 
with onl}- a sexere shaking u^). So we drew u]) and 
camped till the next morning to be sure that those 
villains would l)e far bevond us. 



(/) /V// J'iclurcs uf Early H'cslcni Days. 



CMAi'TKR W 




I<:ARlX(i l"(irt r.ii(l,<;cr. the '^n'ulc 
book said, beware of Indians. 
We had seen a great man}- ah 
along- l)ut had not lieen molested 
since leaving the Platte and had 
not ke]jt guards, as we thought 
that they frightened the stock. 
Here, howe\-er. we again set 
[)ickets for the night. Towards morning we lieard 
several shots not far off and knew- that the redskins 
were haunting us. but the\- did n<jt come to the 
camp. 

Leaving Fort l)ridger oft' to our left we kept on 
o\-er hills and valleys, plains and niouiitains. passing- 
some fine scener\-. ])ut for the most part barren 
wastes covered with sage, cactus and alkalie dust. 
One day we came to a large creek with willows, a 
few cottonwdod trees and some coarse grass; 
crossing this we found the ground coxered with 
what resembled blocks of wood sawed perfectly 
smooth, all were ])etrified and some were broken. 
I wished greatl}- to kee]) a s])ecimen, as 1 wished 
to do from dift'erent localities, but m\- husband ob- 
jected, saying we would do \vell if we got ourselves 
through without taking a load of stone. So with 
many regrets 1 would pass them b}-. After a few^ 



/'(•// Pictures of Early Jl'cslcni Days. 97 

(la}s wc arrived at a rather pleasant ])1ace with i^ood 
iced, called Grass Valley. Here we decided to 
rest for a few days, and oN-ertaking our friends, 
the Cram party, had a most enjoA'able \'isit. We 
traveled together for se\-eral days, Mrs. Cram 
gladly riding with me. Their horses were getting 
so weak and poor that the ladies of the party walked 
most of the time. 

About August first we reachetl the head of Hum- 
holt River. Our only milch cow had grown foot 
sore and weary, refusing to go anv further. Wq 
tried every means in our power to help her along, 
coaxing, driving and bathing her feet, but she \\as 
discouraged and we had to leave her lying 1)\- the 
road, with the certainty that the wolves would kill 
and devour her before another dav. 

Our pleasant visit came tO' an end all too^ soon, 
and one morning our friends left us, driving off 
on a trot, while my trusty team of ten horns kept 
up their steady, swinging gait. The poor dear 
cattle seemed to know ho\v we had come to love and 
depend upon them. They were not so manv now, 
and I had learned to know each one, and no woman 
ever cared more for her span of well-kept horses 
than did I for my trusty oxen. Buck and Berry, the 
faithful creatures who walked at the wheel of my 
wagon e\-ery step of the long road from the Missis- 
sippi River to the Pacific Ocean, and saved the 
lives of my children and myself on more than one 



i)S Pen Piciiircs of Early ]]'cslcni Days. 

occasion. Honor to tlieir menierv! On reachini^ 
C'alifoi'nia 1 would not consent to their heini^" scjld 
to bntcliers, and ni}- husband sold them to a farmer 
who promised to keep them till they died of old 
age. an(l I think he did. 

Our road now followed the llumbolt I\i\-er for 
three hundred miles, scarcely leaving' its hanks. We 
crossed it man}' times in search of good grass. 
At first it was like a small creek, which could he 
fc^rded. l)ut gradually increased in size till it became 
a deep river. At our last crossing- my husband was 
obliged to prop the wagon bed up on blocks to 
within an inch of the top of the standards that held 
it in place, and draw it across with ropes. The men 
and stock swam o\ev. but Charlie and I were in 
the floating wagon where the least mishap would 
have let it drift ofT down the stream, ^^'hen we 
reached the shore m\- ultimatum was announced, 
that from this on there would be no more crossings 
of Humbolt for me. that I was fully satisfied with- 
out another experience of that kind. So we trudged 
along till we reached the sink of the Humbolt. Sep- 
tember fourth. 



Pen P id II res of Early 11' est cm Days. 



99 



CHAPTER XVI. 




R RIVING at the sink of the Himi- 
bolt, we stopped before driving 
to a camping place to be sure that 
it would 1)e a desiral)]e location. 
There were numerous camps in 
sight. Suddenly my husband 
exclaimed, "By George ! There 
are Cram's wagons." "Oh non- 
sense," I replied, "they are through long before 
this." So to convince me he helped me step up 
onto the wagon tongue — the only lookout in that 
dead level — to see for myself. Sure enough, there 
were the long, low black tops of the three wagons, 
and tlie surroundings of what had been the most 
stunning outfit that had crossed the plains that year 
out of many thousand. 

It was just noon when we drove up and halted 
beside them. Of course there were the usual greet- 
ings, questions to ask, and rejoicings to meet again. 
They had cured their hay, as was the custom, to 
feed on the desert, and were busy packing, expect- 
ing to start in an hour or two. 

Their plan was, to drive five miles on to where 
the road leaves the sink or lake oi the Humbolt, 
and rest there a while, then go on and cross the 
desert of forty miles that night. Mr. Ivins said : 



lOO Pen Picliircs of Early Jl'cstcni Pays. 

"\\'ell, T am going" to cross tonight, too." I rcalK' 
tlionglit he nuist he joking, hnt found liini to 1)e 
in solder earnest. This (h'caded desert is a perfectK' 
harren, alkahe plain stretcliing from the liiimhdlt 
to the Tnickee River, a (hstance of forty miles, w ith 
no water except some hot soda springs near the 
middle of the drive. It is hest to make the trip al 
night as the heat is intense. 

When the Cram train left my husband said to 
me: "If }-ou will ha\e Carl cook and prepare 
things here I will go and make the hay."' The sink 
of the Humbolt is parti}- lake and partly meadow 
covered with coarse grass, long and luxuriant. The 
cattle had been driven into it and were having a 
line meal. It was then about one o'clock. It was 
necessary tO' cross the lagoon in order to tind the 
best grass for hay. 

The lumljer wagon was unloaded and the box 
taken off; it was then launched like a boat, when 
with implements brought for the purpose the hay- 
makers embarked, were poled across, and were 
soon doing' the farming. They cut and dried grass 
till almost sun down, then loading it into the box 
boat brought it over where it had to l)e imloaded, 
the l)ox placed on the wheels and then loaded u[) 
again. There were also two large tanks to be filled 
with water, which had first to be |)ut in place. 
]\reanwhile, Carl and I had worked like bees, baking- 
bread, dried cnrrant pies, pork and beans and cook- 



/'(';/ Pirturrs of Rarly ll'rslcrn Pays. loi 

ing dried apples and rice, bad sorted oN'er things 
discarding e\ery supcrtlnity. :ind when tlie liay- 
niakers retnrned supper was ready and my wagon 
packed and arranged for the niglit. The cattle 
had fed well and were rested, and by dark we were 
ready for the move. T.ittle Charlie was put to bed 
and I followed. The horses were so worn down 
that they were not fit to ride so the men walked 
and drove, and the long dreaded journey across the 
desert was begun. 

Al)out ten o'clock we reached the point where 
the road turns away from the sink and stopped to 
rest, when my husband came into the wagon to lie 
down awhile. Suddenly we heard a familiar voice 
exclaim, "Well, how did you get here?" My hus- 
band sprang' up and out to find Mr. Cram on the 
white mule, who told us that his train was only a 
short distance off ready to start again. The two 
men went awa}' together to see the women of the 
party and Mr. Ivins did not come into the wagon 
again. It was very dark but the white road could 
be plainly discerned. After a short rest our train 
pulled out and I went to sleep, but was dimly con- 
scious that our speed was much greater th.an 
usual. 

The poor cattle seemed to realize the danger 
of delay in that alkalie plain, which would prove a 
veritable Death Valley to them if found tardy. At 
midnight the cattle were fed and watered and then 



102 Poi P id II res of Early JJ\\^lc'ni Days. 

hurried forward till four o'clock in the morning, 
when we came to deep sand which extended to 
the Truckee river some ten miles. The order was 
now given to unyoke the oxen, and men and beasts 
laid down on the ground to rest for an hour. We had 
hardly gotten settled when Mr. Cram, who seemed 
ubiquitous came jingling" up, and with the most ex- 
travagant exclamations of astonishment incjuired 
by wdiat road we came, saying his train was miles 
behind. On explaining we found that having no 
means to carry water they had turned off the road 
at Hot Springs tO' cool some for their horses, and 
we had passed while they were there. 

After a short rest we resumed our weary way. 
At seven o'clock I got up and raising my curtains 
to take a view of the surroundings, what was my 
surprise to see Mrs. Cram and Mr. Ivins walking 
in front of our train in the sand which was shoe top 
deep. I called to them, and j\Irs. Cram came in 
to ride and take l)reakfast with me. 

The animals seemed to smell the water to 
which we were coming, running so fast that men 
had to 1)e sent forward to keep them back, .\bout 
ten o'clock we arrived at Truckee River, a clear, 
cool mountain stream with good grass near. The 
cattle did not seem thirsty but rushed into the water 
and stood laving their sides and cooling" their feet; 
wdiile we tired mortals sat around on the grass 
resting and congratulating ourselves that one of the 



Pen richircs of Early U'cstcni Days. 103 

most dreaded stages oi . onr journey was safely 
passed. 

We decided to remain at Trnckee that night, 
making" onr camp as soon as the otlier friends ar- 
rived. After spenchng a ])leasant evening together 
we decided that we would not part company again, 
and kept our good resolution for the space of three 
(lavs. After remaining at Trnckee all night we 
again plodded on. 

\\'e turned directly away from the river into the 
foot hills of the Sierra Nevada niountains, that 
forenoon coming to the first forest. The trees were 
verv large and beautiful, and it seemed grand after 
the long dustv roads over which we had traveled 
so long, and the shade and odor of the pines was 
most refreshing. Louis Smith was wild with en- 
thusiasm insisting that I should take a walk with 
him in the woods. 

After the evening work was done he began car- 
rying the large pine cones with which the ground 
was covered, making ready for a jubilee. He kept 
at work till it was quite dark, building pile after 
l)ile for bonfires. Then began his celebration by 
setting fire to them one at a time, and when the 
blaze was highest and the roar loudest, he would 
whistle, sing darkey songs, dance, pat juba and 
shout, making the woods resound. If any of the 
men went to bed he would pull them out. won- 



T04 /\ii Pictures of Early Western Days. 



derin^" if tliev liad no ijlory in tlieir souls. This 
he kept u]) till niidnii^ht, when \\e hedged him to 
([uiet di)\\n. hut 1 was sorry to stop his fun. 



Pen Pichiri's of luirly U\\drni Pays. T05 



CHAPTER XVII. 




|KXT (lav our road was over some 
low mountains covered with 
loose shingly rocks which moved 
at ever}' step. Air. Cram and T 
took a long walk and had a very 
serious conversation, in which 
. he urged me as a brother to 
influence my husband to remain 
with them for the remainder of the journey, saying 
that it would be best on many accounts, particularly 
on my own. After passing the shingly mountains, 
we came down into a beautiful valley called Truckee 
meadow, with line grass and plenty of water, Sep- 
tember eighth. The place seemed made expressly 
to feed and strengthen up the half-starved stock, 
thus enabling them to haul the loads over the 
Sierras. 

As soon as he discovered the grass to be so 
fine Mr. Cram declared his intention of remaining 
there two weeks. Of course our doing so -was out 
of the question, and my husband replied, "Time 
is too' precious with us ; we must leave tomorrow,'' 
and they walked out to where the stock were luxuri- 
ating in the fragrant grass. Our sturdy cattle 
were all right, but their horses were perfectly w^orn 
out and miserably poor. If they laid, or which w'as 



io6 Pen Pictures of Early U'cslrni Days. 

more often the case, fell down, they could not get 
u[> without help. The men would take blankets 
and slip under them and set them on their feet, 
then they could walk or stagger along; all but the 
white mule which was as jolly as ever. 

In the morning I went to make a farewell visit 
to Mrs. Cram and found her sitting on a box crving 
bitterly; upon inquiry I found that the precious l)ox 
contained all their pretty keepsakes and elegant 
wardrobe, and that it must be left, as the horses 
could not haul anything further, and that she would 
ha\-e nothing in which to make a respectable 
appearance upon reaching ci\ilization. While we 
were condoling with each other upon our trials, 
our husbands came up and wanted to know the 
cause of the present trouble. Upon being informed 
Air. Ivins said : "Oh. don't cr}'. 1 will take your 
box to Marysville and leave it at the Adams express 
office subject to your order. How will that suit 
you?" She at once accepted the offer and was all 
smiles. 

"Well," said Air. Cram, '*if you are so willing 
to do a good turn perhaps you will take a box for 
me." Mr. Ivins assured him that he would gladly 
do so, and both boxes were loaded into our lumber 
wagon without delay. The second box contained 
a complete set of carpenter's tools, which if we 
had known would ha\e saved us nmch troul)le a few 
days later, and ignorance was not bliss in this 
instance. 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 107 

Carl bad taken a lot of provisions ont of the 
wag-on toi snn. and as there was a trading post 
near by the proprietor was looking around to see 
what the emigrants would sell or leave. He imme- 
diately wanted some of our supplies. \\'e were 
sure bv this time that we would ha\e provisions 
to spare, so Mr. Ivins sold him an hundreds pounds 
of flour for a dollar a pound, and a large ham for 
thirty dollars, both of which he carried off in tri- 
umph. It seemed a big price but it was worth all 
that to- bring them that far. We still had a month's 
provision, and expected to reach Marysville in two 
weeks at most. 

After a most delightful visit with our life-long 
friends, on the morning of September ninth w'e 
bade them good-bye with many tears on my part, 
for I needed friends then if ever, and we were 
starting on a perilous road over the niountains. 
The ascent of the Sierras began now in earnest. 
The road was very rough, in many place covered 
with round boulders which made it almost impas- 
sible. I was obliged to lie down most of the day. 
In the afternoon, as he usually did, Tvlr. Ivins went 
forward to look for a camping place. We often 
had to leave the road to find good grass. There 
were places about twenty-five miles apart where it 
could be found, that being a day's journey for 
oxen. After he went awa}-, the road becoming 
somewhat smoother. I went to sleep, not waking till 
quite late. 



io8 Pen Pirliircs of Early ]\'cstcrn Da\s. 

1 found Car] drixino- my learn. On asking- 
wlicre my regular driver was Carl told nie that 
soon after Mr. Ivins left Henry had taken a sack 
of crackers out of the wagon and gone away, saving 
tliat he was tired of l)eing so slow, and that a few 
days would lake him to settlements. There wa."? 
nothing to be done, as we could not overtake liim, 
but we feared the worst. It was growing late and 
there were still no signs of my husband and I was 
greatly worried. It was almost sundown, when 
we heard away off to the right a faint hello, and 
saw Mr. Ivins coming towards us. We waited 
till he came up when he lectured us roundlv for 
being so- heedless in not watching for him. He 
had found a fine camp a mile or so off the road, and 
had been trying to attract our attention for some 
time in order to go there, but we were past the 
turn off. 1 wanted to go back but he was cross 
and said, "Xo. we will go on till we find another 
place,'" and tm we went. 

I retired to my abiding place too distressed to 
say anything more. It was dusk when we drove 
up to what seemed to be a small lake, and the 
order was gi\-eu to unyoke. The cattle were driven 
to the lake to drink but turned away without tast- 
ing the water. W'hat was our consternation to find 
it to be an alkalie lake, which looked like ashes 
and water mixed, not fit to be used at all. and all 
together the outlook was most distressing. Carl 
made the fire and cooked the supper b)- the light 



/'('// riiiiircs of Early JJ'cstcni Days. 109 

of a (liin laiitcni. making- the coffee out of a little 
water which was left oxer in the cans, keeping" 
about a quart to drink. I fixed my house and Carl 
brought me my supper but 1 could not eat and spent 
the time in tears. Little Charlie was put to bed and 
Mr. hins retired also. After all was quiet 1 lighted 
ni}' lamp and sat doAvn to sew. 1 had l)een ([uietly 
at work making a small wardrol)e out of some of 
the clothes which were in the broken box l>et\)re 
mentioned, for I realized that 1 might need it before 
we arri\-ed in California, or \er)- soon after. There 
was onl}" one more garment to hnish and I thought 
that I had better get it done. I sewed till about ten 
o'clock. Outside the poor, thirsty cattle lowed, the 
coyotes barked and snarled, the owls hooted and 
the night hawks screamed. It seemed as if we 
were deserted l)y God and man. I thought that I 
would go to l)ed and sleep if possible, but found 
that I could not help myself; that now. indeed, 
trouble was in store for us. I woke mv husband 
and told him the situation. He would not believe 
me at first, but was soon convinced, and God only 
knows the fear and agony of that dreadful night. 
I tried to be bra\e for the sake of mv husband and 
child, and at three o'clock there came to us a dear 
little daughter, with no one near to help, comfcjrt 
or relieve. 

After doing what he could for me, mv husband 
wrapi>ed the little one in a blanket and laid her in 
my arm. It had turned verv cold and a dreadful chill 



no Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 

came on. J\ly husband put ^\ arm covers over mc 
and tried to warm me by holding me in his arms. 
A bed had been made for Chadie on the spring seat. 
He was put there and we watched for dayhght with 
aching hearts. At the first faint ghmmer of dawn 
^Ir. Ivins dispatched a man on horseback with a 
can for water to Pea \'ine springs. It was fi\e 
miles and Ijreakfast was late that morning. My 
husband incjuired of the first train that came past 
for some elderly woman to come in and see me 
and the somewhat unexpected guest. About ten 
o'clock a good Samaritan came in, hoked at the 
baby, said a few kind words to mc and left me to 
mv fate. 



/'(■// I'iiiiircs of liarly ll'cslcni Days. iii 



CHAPTER XVni. 




TAYIXG at this place was of 
course impossible. So after noon 
they hitched up and drove about 
fi\-e miles to a reasonably good 
camping- place and laid by for 
three days. It is useless to say 
h()\\- I g-ot along\ I simplv en- 
dured without complaint. I was 
so sure that both the baby and I would die that all 
fear was gone. I was not even nervous, and waited 
for the end, only anxious about my husband and 
little boy. Charlie just worshiped the little sister 
and was so good and sweet, sitting by me so pa- 
tient and gentle. I might have known that I was 
the mother of an angel even then. My out-door 
life kept me from taking cold, and I made the best 
of the somewhat difficult situation and was quite 
cheerful when my husband was with me. Carl, 
my little Dutchman, was a friend in the fullest 
sense of the word, and all the men were gentle and 
quiet, knowing that the little woman who had 
shared their hardships was in dire necessity and 
clanger. 

It was impossible for us to stop longer as the 
snow would soon begin to fall in the mountains, so 
I told my husband that I was able to travel and 
we resumed our journey. 



112 Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 

The roads were very rough, up and down hills. 
or rather mountains, with here and there a level 
stretch, making- our progress ^•ery slow. On the 
morning of September fourteenth we came to a 
most dangerous part of the road, called the Devil's 
Elbow. It was a huge ledge of rocks with one 
corner jutting out into the road which had led 
along the brow of a mountain for miles. There 
was just room for a wagon to go around and none 
to spare. The turn was very short, and on the 
other side of the road was a precipice of thousands 
of feet down. Just before we came to this Mr. 
Ivins threw up the curtain of the wagon to let me 
see the grandeur of the scene. We were near 
the summit of the Sierras above the clouds. There 
were just the notched and jagged edges of the 
mountains in view. ^\ ith the tops of the trees when 
the clouds lifted for a few moments. I did not 
know of the narrow pass till we were (juite up to it. 
Then my husband told me I must not be afraid, 
that he \\(nild take good care of his little family. 
He put two men with the oxen to guide and drive 
them, lca\ing the drove. All the others with my 
husband went on the lower side of the wagon, 
pushing it towards the rock, and with great caution 
we passed it in safety. The other \\agon was less 
troublesome, being narrower and not having so 
precious a load. 

The cattle were dri\en around crowded up 
towards the rock. My poor, tired husband breathed 



Pen Pictures of Early U'cslcrii Days. 113 

easier when the last creature, man or beast, was 
past the (lanj^'erous place, where a sinj^^le slip or 
misstep would have precipitated the unfortunate 
object hundreds of feet down the cliff. We hurried 
on, that nig-ht camping on the summit. 

The morning- of September fifteenth, three 
cheers were given with a will, in honor of our safe 
deliverance from dangers passed, and the prospect 
of a speedy drive down the western slope. How- 
ever, we were too sanguine as the result proved. 
When all was ready to start Carl was directed to 
drive my wagon to the front, as usual. \\'e had 
gone only about an hundred yards when striking 
a stump the hind axletree was broken short off. 
Mr. Ivins looked at the damage, ordering the other 
wagon and stock driven down to a level place about 
a mile further on, which he had seen when recon- 
noitering the road. The driver whipped up and in 
turning^, out to pass us struck a stone and snap 
went the coupling pole of that wagon, so there we 
W'Cre stuck fast. 

Our tools had all been lost or left, and Mr. Ivins 
had only an axe, hatchet and jack-knife with which 
to repair, and no iron or lumber of any kind. It 
had rained and sleeted all the morning;, freezing 
onto the top of the w^agon which now began to 
melt and run through, and for the first time on the 
journey my bed was getting wet with no way to 
help it, and we were almost frozen. 



114 '^'''" Pictures of Early Western Days. 

I coA'ci'cd up the 1)aliics as well as 1 could and 
tried to keep them warm, thinking- little uf myself. 
Aly husband coming" in to find how 1 was getting 
on. seeing the state of things, broke down for the 
hrst time, exclaiming, "Oh! 1 shall lose you yet on 
this dreadful journey." 

Dear little Charlie tried to comfort us in his 
baby fashion, but the tears would come and we wept 
together. 

My husband was chilled through, and alto- 
gether disccniraged, hardly knowing what t() do and 
seemed io depend on me for advice. He had eaten 
no breakfast as Carl could not cook in the storm, 
and I saw that he could not plan or work until he 
could be made more comfortable, and needed warm 
clothing first of all. So putting them on we all 
crept under the covers till we got warm. It was 
also important that he should have a' nourishing 
meal ; as there was a trading post near I asked 
him to gO' and see wdiat he could find. He did so, 
buying a dried applie pie and a glass of milk, for 
which he paid a dollar, but it did him many times 
that amount of good. 

^Vhile he was eating his luncheon he related 
his luishaps to the trader, who told him that a short 
distance further on was a wagon that had l^een 
broken down by the snow", which fell to the depth 
of twenty-live feet there in winter, and ])erhaps 
he might find something with which to repair 



Pen Pictures of Early J I 'est cm Days. 115 

the (laniage. He went at once and found the axles 
still whole, but they were for a narrow tread, while 
ours was a wide tread wagon. He brought them 
back however, glad to hnd anything in this case of 
necessity. Coming back to the cani]) he dispatched 
two men to cut a slim pine sapling, as there were 
no other trees there. With that and chains he 
soon fixed the lumber wagon. Then turning his 
attention to my house he proped it up. taking off 
the hind axle. Placing them in the fire together 
with those he had found would char them, then 
shape them down in a slanting manner until they 
were of the proper width ; then taking a bolt heated 
it red hot and bored holes in them, and with a 
stnjng bolt and nut fastened them together. Put- 
ting the wheels on he found they fitted, so we were 
in running order once more. 

It would have facilitated matters greatly if we 
had known that Mr. Cram's box contained a com- 
plete set of carpenter's tools. By the time the 
repairing was done it was almost night, so we 
hitched up and dro\-e down to the level place before 
spoken of and camped for the night, tired but 
hai>{)y. 

September sixteenth we started early, glad to 
leave that land of break-downs, that day passing a 
mining camp called Seventy-Six, where we heard 
that a man came there the day before nearly worn 
out and starving, and knew from the description 



ii6 Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 

tliat it niiist have been our deserter, Henry. No 
one knew where he had g"one, however, and we 
ne\'er heard of him aj^ain. We Ijegan to see now 
and tlien a mining' cami) or soHtary shanty. The 
roads were not so bad, aUhongh we tra\-ele(l 
slowlv with the wheels locke(h it being down grade, 
throngh the Beckworth Cut Oft, and into a fine 
opening cahed Cirass Vahey. where we remained a 
day for the cattle to have a good feed. A ranch- 
man visited ns here, who had tried for half a day to 
overtake ns, to induce Mr. Ivins to come to his 
ranch and be comi)any for him and his wife. All 
he asked was that we should come and live in one 
of his houses; that he should have all the pasture 
he needed, and that an hundred dollars a month 
would be the salary, with nothing" to do l)ut what 
he wished. lUit our faces were straight-forward, 
and ease had no charms for us then. A mine (^w•ner 
made a more liberal offer still if we would only stop 
with him. Women were scarce and most attrac- 
tive to the poor, homesick men alone, so far from 
their families, and I was treated like a superior 
being. 1 had b}' this time 1)egun to get out of the 
wag'on in the evening. The weather was lovely and 
we went on our way rejoicing. 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ'estcni Days. 1x7 



CHAPTER XIV. 




^' Sei)teni1)cr twentieth we arrived 
at Mount Hope Branch, cig"ht 
miles out of Marys\-ille. As we 
came dow'n the mountains we 
had a heautiful view of Sacra- 
mento Valley, with its varied 
hues of green, russet and brown, 

with the Sacramento river runnino- like a silver 

thread towards the west. 

The good grass at Mount Hope induced us to 
rest there for five days taking- a new lease of life. 
Mv husband went into the town each day. de- 
lighted to meet men who could talk of something 
besides the worn out subjects of grass, water, bad 
roads and alkalie dust. 

On the twenty-fifth of September we proceeded. 
going into Marysvill^ in the afternoon, \\diat came 
near proving a most serious accident occurred on 
this short drive. Quail were very numerous along 
the road and Mr. Ivins could not resist the temp- 
tation tO' shoot some, so came to the wagon and 
took out his gun. After bagging a dozen or two 
he brought it back and put it in its place, fastened, 
as he supposed, by the straps to the wagon bows. 
The children and I were asleep, and he was careful 
not to disturb us. On going over a rough place 



Ti8 Pen Pictures of Early JJ'csfcrn Pays. 

in the road the g'un feh down close to my head and 
went off within a few inches of my face, setting 
fire to the cover. I was so stunned for a few min- 
utes, that I (hd not know wliat had occurred. The 
screams of the chikh'en recahed me. but e\'en then 
1 (hd not know what liad liappened till Mr. I\-ins 
rushed up in great affright and exclaimed : "Oh ! 
are you shot?" and blaming himself for careless- 
ness. By this time the cotton cover had 1)urst into 
a blaze, and it took hard work to extinguish it. I 
began to think I bore a charmed life. It was a 
dreadful shock and had I been at all nervous would 
have g"one hard with me. But so far I had been 
perfectly cool in every danger we had encountered, 
a trait I inherited from niy father who was a sol- 
dier, an officer in the regular army. 

At Marysville Mr. Ivins drove at once to the 
express ofiice and deposited the boxes belonging to 
our friends, the Crams, and passing through the 
town made our camp under some large willow trees 
on the bank of Feather River, where we staid two 
days. 

We were now on the level road leading to Sac- 
ramento. Our men still remained with us, and 
would do' so till Ave reached that place. The heat 
was intense in the middle of the day, but the morn- 
ings and evenings were cool and pleasant. Oiu' 
camp was close to the stage road leading to Sacra- 
mento. It was a Ijeautiful sight to see those elegant 



Pen Pictures of Early ]]\\^teni Days. 119 

niahooan}- colored coaches, triinmed witli "old, 
drawn hy four spans of fine horses, witli sliining- 
harness. "oino- at a full o-a]]op on a road level as 
a floor. 

Se])teniber 29th we broke up our pretty camp, 
starting- down the same mad. hut at quite a dif- 
ferent o-ait. The heat was frightful, the poor cattle 
suffering- dreadfully, to say nothing- of human be- 
ings. I beg-an to feel quite bright and enjoyed 
seeing- the farms, ranches and other signs of civili- 
zation. The sun beat down furiously. Among- the 
drove I noticed a poor little red steer who was 
almost o\'ercome and could not find any shade, pant- 
ing- f(^r breath; with his tongue hrmging out he 
would run a little ways and then stop. I watched 
him curious to know why he did so, and found 
that it; was from one telegraph pole to another, 
where he would back up into the long slim line of 
shade it cast, .\fter a while he discovered a little 
shade behind the wagon, and kept close to it for 
shelter. 

Alxnit noon we came to a wayside inn, putting- 
up there for the rest of the day and night. The 
people kept the floors and porches wet to cool the 
an-. The next morning we resumed our march, 
and the twenty-eighth of September arrixed at a 
pomt near Sacramento, making our camp on the 
.\merican river under some beautiful, large live 
t^ak trees. 



I20 Pen Pictures of Early JJ'esleni Days. 

My husband rind all the men went int(i town 
except Carl, who staid with me. Louis Smitli ex- 
])ecte(l to receive a letter from a brother living in 
Stockton advising" him what he should do. The 
others went to look for work, and Mr. Ivins to 
decide upon a place to take his family. I was almost 
jubilant, for now I began to see the end of this most 
trying and tedious journey. 

After they had all g'one Carl made me a com- 
fortable couch ^^•here Charley, baby and I had a nice 
change from the close quarters of our wagon home. 
We had named the little g'irl Sierra Nevada, in 
honor of her birth place. She was doing well and 
was an object of great interest to us all. I did not 
want to give her that name, but her father wished 
it so I consented. Carl and I had a long consulta- 
tion as to what was l)est for him to do. He did not 
want to lea\'e us, and I certainly did not wish to 
have him do so, and we settled it that he should 
stay until some desirable opportunity presented 
itself. He seemed very happy that he was so well 
provided for, and I was also, that I could still have 
my faithful Carl. Late in the afternoon Mr. Ivins 
came back to tell me that he had rented a ranch 
across the ri\-er, five miles from the city. The pro- 
prietor had a young wife who would be delighted 
to have a neighbor and companion. There was a 
nice cottage and ])lenty of land, and that we were 
to go over to it the next day, stopping in the city 
to buv furniture on the wav. I was wild with de- 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ\\<^tcni Pays. t2i 

lio-lii and could scarcely believe that I should so 
soon be in a home of my own. Clark and the others. 
except Louis, soon returned to stay the night, get 
their possessions, say good-bye and each go their 
\va\' the following morning. 

just as supper was ready Louis came dashing 
up, exclaiming, "I have it and you must share my 
luck." After the small excitement was over he an- 
nounced that he had received a letter from hi.s 
brother at Stockton, enclocing a draft for one hun- 
dred dollars, and that we should have it all but 
enough to take him to Stockton. Of course that 
was out of the question, but it was most generous 
in Louis, and we appreciated his kindness greatly. 
Louis was almost offended but had to give up his 
plan. 

The men seemed loathe to say good-1>ye, but by 
nine o'clock next morning all were gone except 
Louis, who lingered to go into the city with us and 
say good-bye there. At ten o'clock we were again 
on the road, Louis driving my wagon to be with me 
a while longer, to tell me all his hopes and fears, 
and how much he loved us. My tears would come, 
for T had learned to look upon the noble boy almost 
as a brother. When we reached the city he left us 
with a sorrowful face, and I never saw him again. 

Carl came and drove my wagon for a while as 
we passed through the street, but soon my husband 
came and took his place and Carl went to the other, 
the cattle following from force of habit. 



122 Pen Pictures of Early IVesteni Days. 

Emigrant teams were plenty, 1)nt mine was an 
extra good one and we had not gone far into the 
city until some one said : "Hello, stranger, what 
will you take for that wagon ?" Mr. Ivins replied : 
"One hundred dollars." The answer was: "Well, 
unload." I got out with the children, the hcd and 
other contents were loaded into the lumber wagon, 
and a i)lace fixed for us to ride the short distance 
we expected to go. W'e had not yet reached the 
business part of the city. Shortly after, another per- 
son exclaimed, "Hello, Ivins. when did you get in?" 
And a man ^\•hom ni)- husband had known in a 
neighboring town to ours in Iowa made himself 
known, asked where we were going and invited us 
to his brother's house to dinner; said that his family 
were (ju their way to the coast by land ; describing 
that part of the state as a land flowing with milk and 
honey, fine feed and fat cattle, the hills covered with 
flowers and wild oats, and even Paradise itself 
would be dull compared with its glories; also, that 
we would reach there in three days, going" right 
along wdth them ; that he had some cows that could 
go along ^^•ith our drove; that he would help drive 
them, and that Mrs. Hunt, his wife, could assist 
me if need be, and, in fact, everything be lovely. 
I was bitterly opposed to the plan, Ijut my husband, 
contrary to his usual good judgment l)elie\'ed all 
Hunt told him, and it did no good for me to object. 
Accordingly he wrote to the man whose ranch he 
had engaged, giving it up. We staid all night at 



Pen Pictures of Early IJ'rsfcni Daxs. 123 

the Hunts, startini;- early in the morning" for l-'ara- 
(lise, ordinarily called Petahmia. We could not 
cook now, having" no conveniences, so hought pro- 
visions for the trip already cooked. Among other 
eatahles Mr. Ivins bought a stack of pies a foot high. 
They were niade with rancid lard and it made me 
sick to even look at them, and with things thrown 
into the wagon as they were, our culinary depart- 
ment was somewhat demoralized. I was terribly 
cramped for room, so that Mr. Ivins was obliged to 
sleep on the ground, which he had never done be- 
fore. 

We endured the first night, and the next day I 
tried to pack things to be more comfortable, but 
it was of no use and the second oiie I laid down 
in the crowded place with my little ones and forgot 
my troubles for three days. How the poor chil- 
dren fared I never knew. 

There was no stopping now. We would be 
obliged to pasture the stock which w^ould cost at 
least thirty dollars a day, which we could not af- 
ford to pay. No' one came near me. Mr. Ivins and 
Carl had to drive team and cattle, while the Hunts 
were absorbed in their own affairs. Their cows 
were going with our drove, and that was all they 
wanted of us anyway. My husband said that the 
baby cried most of the time, and dear, twenty- 
months-old Charley would alternately pet it and cry 
himself. Carl woiild sometimes take him in his 



124 ^^« Pictures of Early JJ'cstcru Days. 

arms and carry him wliile driving cattle ; and my 
husband walked all day and drove oxen with a burn- 
ing fever. This state of things lasted for three 
days, when my uncle, Dr. Galland, overtook us. 
They had reached Marysville after we left there, 
coming by way of Carson Valley. Having received 
letters from me that we were going tO' the coast and 
being uneasy about me, he took horse and followed, 
reaching us at the third nights' camp below Sacra- 
mento. 

My uncle seeing my condition tried to rouse me 
without a\ail. So taking out medicine he admin- 
istered it, helped to care for the children and took 
his place by the camp fire to watch with me. The 
next morning I was still delerious. My uncle had 
Mr. Ivins ride his horse and staid with me, cared 
for the children, still giving me medicine. He tried 
to have us stop but the urgency of the case would 
not admit of it. 

The roads were good, but nothing worried or 
aroused me. That night again my uncle watched 
with me while the others slept. I was l)urning up 
with fever, and he g'ave me all the water 1 wanted 
to drink. The poor little baby wailed and moaned, 
but it was too cold to take it out of the wagon- 
Some time towards morning he heard me moving, 
and coming to me found me up on my knees in the 
front of the wagon with my baby in my arms trying 
to throw it out. He reasoned with me, asking me 



/'(•// Pictures of Early H'cstcrii Days. 125 

what I wanlod to do, talked to me and so(jthed me, 
sayiiii;'. "M}' child, it is your baby." I looked at 
him for a few minutes trying- to understand. .Ml 
at once 1 smiled and said : "Why, so it is," and 
quietly laid down with it in my arms, and both fell 
asleep, d he morning" found me free from fe\er but 
very weak. Aly uncle at once went on to Petaluma 
and hiring a spring waggon sent it back, with orders 
to have my bed laid in it and hurry back with me 
to the hotel. But the Hunt family crowded into it, 
giving me just a seat. Charley was put on a cushion 
at my feet, and I held the baby in my lap. As we 
rode along I would reel from side to side, and had 
to hold on with all my poor strength to keep from 
falling out. In this way, about four o'cUick in tlie 
afternoon we dro\'e up to the hotel at Petaluma, 
wdiere my uncle had engaged rooms for us. My 
friend, Mr. I. G. W'ickersham, met me and lifting 
me out carried me into the parlor and set me in a 
chair, and I again forgot my troubles. 




126 Poi Pictures of Early Western Days. 



CH A ITER XX. 



WAS i)ut to bed and my uncle 
watched over me for two weeks, 
when, thanks to his skill, I be- 
gan to improve. B}' this time 
my children were both sick and 
my husband down with moun- 
tain fever. And altogether we 
were in a most deplorable state. 
\\^e were paying twenty-fi\e dollars a week at the 
hotel with very poor accommodations. Our cattle 
were turned loose in the hills with no one to look 
after them but Carl, and he just a half-grown boy. 
As soon as he could lea\'e us my uncle hurried back 
to ]\Iar}-sville. sold his outfit and brought my aunt 
back to Petaluma, where they at once rented a house, 
and took us all home to nurse us back to health; 
and most gently and tenderly did they care for us 
and help us regain our exhausted strength. Had 
it not been for them, my more than father and 
mother, this family A\-ould have ended then and 
there. As it was, with all their care, the month of 
h^ebruary found me just able to begin housekeeping 
in a small cottage of two rooms which my husband 
had built, lined with cloth and papered; poor and 
cheap as it was, it was a \eritablc palace to me, for 
was it not my home, after six months spent in an 



Pen P id lire's of Early U'cslcm Days. 127 

ox wagon. 'J'hc cosy nest was our home for eight 
months. 

'J'he town which contained onlv f(»nr hnn(h-e<l 
inhahitants wlicn we arrived there grew (juite rap- 
idly. But change was the order of events, and we 
kept pace with tliem. Our cattle were still in the 
hills, but the owner could now see to them, and 
they were fat and fine. 

We had made many friends, mostly men, but 
gentlemen who were enterprising-, enthusiastic and 
who never said fail. My husband now decided to 
go into the stock and dairy business. He took a 
ranch about two miles from town, suited to the pur- 
pose, built a house and we were soon at home to 
our friends there. The hills closed in on every side, 
although the road to town was perfectly level, going 
through the \-alleys. It was beautiful to l(Jok at, but 
lonely in the extreme. We were nearly a mile from 
the nearest neighbor, and they only men. I was 
alone with my children most of the time for the 
first four months, bv husband being awav attendins- 
to business interests. There was an Indian village 
about two miles further on called The Rancharee, 
and so many Indians passed the house drunk and 
disorderly that I was in a constant state of fear. 
There were also California lions in the hills atout, 
and coyotes so bold that they stole our provisions, 
which I tried to keep in a sort of cage hung outside; 
to say nothing of grizzly bears, for a mother and 



128 Pen Pictures of Early ]\'estern Days. 

two cubs were killed only half a mile from the house 
soon after we moved out there, and just across the 
road was a ledge of rocks which I \\as sure sheltered 
rattle snakes. Mr. Ivins ridiculed the idea, but go- 
ing there one day to gather wild roses I heard a 
sound that I could not mistake, so I charged little 
Charley not to cross the road. Time proved that I 
was right, for two years afterwards a person going 
there heard the same sound and set fire to the bushes 
covering the ledge, when hundreds of the reptiles 
crawled out and were killed. 

It was some time before we got into running 
order for cheese and l)utter making, but when we 
did found it a most lucrative business, a great deal 
of work l)ut fine profit. A dollar a pound for butter 
and fifty cents for cheese will do very well when 
you have eighty cows giving milk, to say nothing 
of the growing calves and pigs, and money flowed 
in plentifully. 

Mr. Ivins was so well pleased that he wanted to 
build a better house and make it a permanent hcmie. 
but I could not think of spending my life and 
raising my children there, and w-as dissatisfied and 
homesick for companions and more refined sur- 
roundings. 

We were constantly having some grand scare 
or hairbdeadth escape. An incident worth relating 
occurred soon after we moved out to the ranch. Mr. 
Ivins had bought three hundred chickens, paying a 



Pc]i Pictures of Early J J 'est cm Days. 129 

dollar apiece for them, and had built a chicken 
house of red wood slabs on the hillside back of the 
house, near a clear spring which gave us our water 
supply. In a short time they began to disappear. 
It was a mystery where they went as the door was 
locked at night, and there was just an opening less 
than two feet square for them to go in and out. 
One night I was awakened by the excited breathing 
of my husband who was dressing himself as fast as 
possible. He said there was a commotion among 
the fowls, and rushed off to see what it could be. 
While he N\as gone I dressed myself and called the 
hired man. In a short time Mr. Ivins came l)ack 
and told'me that there was something in the chicken 
house, and that he had fastened up the small door, 
and for us to go with him and see what was the 
matter. So John took the ax, ]\Ir. Ivins his gun 
and I a piece of candle, and proceeded to the scene 
of action. The only noise was the fluttering of the 
chickens. Mr. Ivins opening the large door, set the 
candle on the ground inside, and as he did so saw 
the blazing eyes of some animal. Stepping back 
(juickly and fastening the door he took aim straight 
at the eyes and tired. The chickens flew in all di- 
rections putting out the candle. At the same mo- 
ment there was a terrific crash and something came 
across the house almost knocking" oft' the slabs. We 
all ran in different directions. After waiting a 
while as there was no more noise we i)roceeded to 
investigate. We had no more ammunition, so it was 



130 Pen Pictures of Early JJ'rstcni Days. 

rather a dangerous undertaking, l^rocuring- another 
candle Mr. Ivins opened the door In- degrees, and 
seeing the creature stih immovable went in and 
found it to he an immense lynx, as large as a six 
months old calf. His sf)litary load of shot had taken 
effect directly between the eyes. \\> dragged his 
catship down to the house setting him up on the 
back p(jrch where he was an object of much curi- 
osity. My little boy called it the big pussy. 

One lovely day in the latter part of the summer 
Mr. Ivins went to Tomales for a load of vegetables. 
It being fifteen miles out he started, very early, 
taking the ox team which served for all occasions, 
sometimes as a carriage. After he left the hours 
dragg"ed slowly, and it seemed as if the day were 
a week long", that night ne\'er would come. Drunken 
Indians rode past making the air hideous with their 
whoops and howls, but no other human being came 
in sight. After what seemed a day almost intermin- 
able the night closed down. I put my little ones 
to bed and waited. Outside the cloth and paper 
house the coyotes barked, and there were all sorts 
of alarming sounds. I felt as if I should almost 
die of fright. I could not leave or carry my chil- 
dren, and the nearest neighbor was almost a mile 
away. It was midnight when I heard a shout on 
the hill back of the house, and shortly after my hus- 
band came, driving- the big ox wagon straight down 
a steep hill a half mile high, without any signs of 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ'csferii [lays. 131 

a road. He had turned off the main road to find a 
shorter route and liad (h'iven over liills and ravines, 
Avhich he could do as there were tew trees. But 
I think it was the only time that a loaded \vag(jn 
\vas^e\er dri\-en straight up and down those Peta- 
lunia hills. All the vegetables in the state would not 
have tempted me to live over again that dreadful 
day. I knew of the grizzly bears that had been 
killed so near the place, and although my husband 
assured me that dead grizzlies would not hurt me. 
I was afraid there might be live ones left. 



13^ Pen Pictures of Early I Pest cm Days. 



CHAPTER XXI. 




MILE \\e were waiting for affairs 
to get into running order for 
business, we had leisnre to take 
many short trips to places (jf in- 
terest in tlie vicinity, one of 
whicli was particularly enjoy- 
able. Quite a party was ar- 
ranged to go on a clam bake to 
Tomales Bay on the ocean, fifteen miles distant, 
camping over night. There were about thirty in 
the party. We started at ten o'clock one lovely June 
morning, a merry part}-, in all sorts of conveyances, 
even to a lumljer \\agon bedded with ha}' — mostly 
men, as women were scarce. 

The ride was through the foothills of the coast 
range of mountains which were covered with wild 
oat§, California poppies and other wild l^owers, with 
now and then live oak trees looking ver}- like 
orchard trees, with wide spreading shade. \\'e 
stopped at noon in a convenient spot with a small 
spring ioY our picnic lunch. l)ri\ing on just before 
sunset we arrived at the top of the last hill. On 
reaching the summit a magnificent sight met our 
eyes. N^o words can express the grandeur oi the 
scene. Beyond the small promontory which makes 
the bay, the Pacific stretchetl one grand expanse of 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ^esfcni Days. 133 

water, smooth as t^-lass, the sun liangino- red above 
it. and in the foregTonnd the httle bay with its green 
borders coming close to the shore. \\'e (h-ew up 
and waited to see the snn sink Hke a ball of fire into 
the water, then driving on down the hill, made oiir 
camp. and while the men were putting up the tents 
got supper and made the beds before dark. There 
was little sleep for we sat by the camp-fire and told 
stories and sang songs till far into the beautiful 
moonlight night; then after the women and girls 
had retired the men serenaded us until almost morn- 
ing. After breakfast most of the party went across 
the bay to the main shore, leaving a Mrs. Thompson 
and me at the camp, as we both had children with 
us. They crossed the bay in small boats, taking 
baskets to bring back the spoils, returning about 
four o'clock in the afternoon, loaded down with 
clams, muscles, sea weed and beautiful shells. Mr. 
I\ins had found a number of beautiful shells com- 
monly called sea eggs, fine specimens, not large 
but perfect. On reaching the camp as he took his 
basket down from his shoulder where he had carried 
it he crushed all but two. I still treasure one of 
them as a memento of a most enjoyable trip. After 
having a fine dinner of clams and other fish, we 
started houie about six o'clock. The moonlight ride 
was beautiful, as we did not reach Petaluma till 
after midnight. 



134 -^'"^ Piciiircs of Early JJ'cstcrn Days. 



CHAPTER XXIT. 




FRIEND of onrs. Mr. Hnlet, had 
married the daughter of an old 
Spaniard, Signor Bohockus, 
who owned many leagues of 
land, one of the early Spanish 
grants. Those old land owners 
kept many retainers dependent 
upon them, and when money 
was needed he would have his flocks, herds and 
manather of horses which roamed over his broad 
acres of hill and meadow driven up, and as many 
as were needed sold, at which time money would 
be plenty. The round-up generally lasted two weeks, 
after which there was a good time, ending with a 
fandango and barbecue. Everybody for miles 
around was invited. Air. Hulet had asked us to 
come to the next one, which would be in the spring. 
One night about nine o'clock a spring wagon drove 
up with a message from Mr. Hulet to come to the 
fandango, that he would send us home whenever 
we wanted to come. 



We at once dressed and taking the baby, left 
Charley with John. After a drive of five miles we 
arrived at the place of festivties. The whole house, 
a large adobe, was thrown open and brilliantly 
lighted, and dancing was going on to the music of 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ'csfcru Days. 135 

Spanisli guitars. We entered and were most cor- 
dially o-reeted l)y tlie liost, and introduced as 
Signor and Signora I\-ins. Tlie 1)al)y was taken 
to the nursery, a long room having i)eds and cra- 
dles, with nurses in attendance, where there were at 
least thirty habies being cared for. The little 
Sierra was a most accommodating child, and opened 
her big blue eyes very wide to see the .small Spanish 
boys of six months old or less dressed in short pants, 
bolero jackets, and the finest of linen cambric 
shirts, trimmed with dainty thread and Valenciennes 
lace, and cunning silk socks and slippers. They 
were too comical and pretty. 

We returned to the salon and joined the throng. 
Mr. Hulet brought up a tall Spaniard, mentioned 
my name and his. He bowed and offered his arm 
which I took, and we stepped into the circle of 
waltzers. One could not help dancing with such 
a partner, so round and around we went. I could 
not ask him to stop, but we did when the music 
ceased. Later Mrs. Hulet took me to the supper 
room to see the tables before they were demolished, 
and to the kitchen where the waiters were carving 
a whole ox, which had been roasted and was steam- 
ing hot. It was all so interesting to me, but strange ; 
so like a foreign country. At one o'clock I took my 
sleeping baby and the conveyance took us home 
after a most delightful evening. One of my friends 
sent me a fine pony and I was getting quite inde- 
pendent, riding into town often, also going with my 



1 3'^! Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 

liusband to hunt cattle, and it was delightful riding 
over these beautiful hills. One day I was g'oing into 
town ; the wind was blowing" a gale, there was a 
long ra\-ine to pass through where the sweep was 
greatest ; ^^•hen about the middle of this I saw a 
carriage comingi out, and what was my sur|)rise 
and delight to meet our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Cram, 
on their way out to visit us. They had a big laugh 
at my expense. I suppose that I looked the perfect 
C(^untry woman, my hat blown onto the back of my 
neck, my riding skirt filled with wind and the pony, 
Flossy, going at a keen gallop. I turned back with 
ihem, gtad to welcome them, and we had a week 
to be remembered, filled with reminiscences of our 
never-to-be-forgotten journey, and anticipations for 
the future. 

i\nd now work began in earnest. Making butter 
and cheese is no child's play, although I had plenty 
of help and every convenience for making it as 
easy as possible, and it brought in lots of yellow 
gold. The knowledge of our prosperous business 
became known and visitors were numerous at the 
ranch to see the process which I had learned from 
an eastern cheese-maker, and to eat the curd and 
drink the milk and cream. One August day, when 
we felt more tired than usual a purchaser came, and 
in an hour's time everything was sold, including 
four tons of cheese on the shelves. In another hour 
I was getting clothes ready for my children and 
preparing to leave that land of grizzlies, coyotes and 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ'esfeni Pays. 137 

rattlesnakes — the latter a loeal institution, how- 
ever. 

In a few (lavs we bade good-bye to the lonely 
ranch, which I even then began to regret, spending 
the last two weeks at the home of my uncle. Dr. 
Galland. in Petaluma. Our passage was engaged 
on the steamer Sierra Nevada, which sailed Sep- 
tember tifth. Our friends, when they found that 
we had decided to leave, did everything in their 
power to keep us, and I began to fear that we had 
made a mistake in leaving the state, but my uncle 
and aunt intended to return east in the spring, and 
there were other dear friends at the end of the an- 
ticipated journey. If my husband engaged in busi- 
ness again it would be permanent, for as he said he 
never put his hand to the plow and looked back. 
The days passed all too quickly. The dear friends 
just showered us with kindness, but they could not 
hold back Father Time. 

The small stream upon which Petaluma is sit- 
uated is an arm of San Francisco Bay, and is very 
crooked, the tide coming in twice a day, and there 
is a run of five miles in order to make two, and 
the little steamer could only come in and out with 
the tide. We were to go by the Isthmus of Nica- 
ragua, in order to visit a place near San Juan, where 
Mr. Ivins' sisters had lived, and were looking for- 
ward to a pleasant journey. 

On the morning of Septeml)er fourth the house 



138 Pen Pictures of Early JVcsicrn Days. 

was crowded with friends, mostly men. to say good- 
bye, and wisli us Godspeed. Tliere were few women 
there then and I had been treated hke a queen by 
tliem alh and my husband was proud and happv to 
liave it so. "Jdie captain of the boat said he would 
wait for us as long as possible, but the bell kept 
ringing, and iinally a messenger came to say that 
we must come at once or there would be no water. 
So with about thirty as escort we rushed down to 
the boat which pushed off at once. Wdien we ar- 
rived at the end of the creek, about five miles down, 
two hack loads of friends were there l>efore us 
to say one more good-bye. which was sorrow- 
fully given, for now we began to realize what we 
were giving up. and that a long weary road lay 
between us and the old home in Iowa. We arrived 
in San Francisco in the afternoon, stopped at a 
hotel till the next afternoon when we went on board 
the steamer, selected our room and seats at table, 
an<l at four o'clock the huge steamer with seven 
hundred passengers on board left her moorings and 
slowly steamed out of the Golden Gate into the 
broad Pacific, "Borne on the sand of the sea and the 
swelline hearts" within her. 



Pen Pictures of Parly IVcsfeni Days. T39 



CHAPTER XXITI. 



cL 


'~A 



TIE sun was low in tlie horizon as 
we took our course south past 
the rocks which canard the Gokl- 
en Gate, where numerous seals 
and sea lions were rolling and 
hasking- in the balmy September 
evening". For a few hours all 
went well, the accommodations 

were of the best while joy and gladness seemed to 

rule the hour. 

I had with me as traveling companion a young 
girl, a sister of my friend, Mrs. Cram, who was 
returning to the States, from a visit to her sister at 
Shasta City, California. Her vivacity soon at- 
tracted a number of young people and drew^ around 
us a pleasant circle of gentlemen. My room was 
headquarters for a merry company, and while 
I was too sea-sick to take any part in the enjoyment, 
it was pleasant to have them near me. For twelve 
(lavs I battled with that miserable ailment during 
the day, but after dark I could make up for lost 
time. Mr. Ivins was not much better and the two 
children w'ere just qualmish enough to make them 
quiet and gentle. The days were uneventful, much 
after the order of all ocean trips, a world in itself, 
till we reached the Gulf of California, where we 



I40 Pen Pictures of Early J J' est cm Days. 

encountered a terrific storm. The steamer which 
was a side-wlieeler rolled from side to side. As 
our berths were across from the cal)in to the guards 
at one moment I would be standing- on mv feet and 
the next on my head. The barber shop was torn 
away and part of one of the wdieel houses. The 
great danger was that the engines would give out, 
in ^vhich event we w^ould certainly have been found- 
ered. The passengers were ordered to their rooms, 
the captain assuring us that if human exertion could 
save us he would, but there must be no confusion. 
We watched anxiously for morning with but faint 
hope of escaping" shipwreck. However, with morn- 
ing when the sea became more calm, I returned to 
to my normal condition. We marie but one stop 
between San Francisco and the isthmus, at a small 
coaling station called Mansanillo on the coast of 
Mexico. This of course was an important event to 
both ourselves and the natives wdio, half-clothed, 
rowed around us in boats, and pelted us with 
oranges till we were all well supplied for the re- 
mainder of the journey on the Pacific. After many 
days spent out of sight of land the little village with 
its bamboo and adobe houses and luxurious vegeta- 
tion looked very beautiful. AA'e longed to go on 
shore, but this was impossible, as we were anchored 
some distance out in the bay. We traveled several 
days in sight of one of the Mexican volcanoes which 
was in a state of eruption ; one can scarcely imagine 
the grandeur of the sight. At night the flames 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Lhiys. 141 

mounted almost to the zenith, while during the day 
it seemed a dense cloud of black smoke, a verit- 
able pillar of lire which went before us for several 
days, reminding- us of the children of Israel. We 
were t(x) great a distance to distinguish the outline 
of the mountain, but the kn(j\vledge that in this 
instance distance lent safety to our position con- 
soled us for the loss. We also caught a faint sight 
of the water volcano, a much more uncommon i)he- 
nomenon. The weather was so intensely warm that 
we were obliged to keep our doors open for ventila- 
tion, and whenever I raised up to relieve myself 
the gentleman across the cabin seemed to be keeping 
me company. One day I laughed, sick as I was; 
he returned my sickly smile and this was our intro- 
duction. That evening when I came out of my 
room he was waiting to make himself known to me, 
and give me his name and address, when I intro- 
duced him to my husband and friend. He proved 
to be a ]\Ir. Coleridge of \Vatertown. N. Y. \\'e 
(|uite condoled with each other, deciding that we 
had the ^vorst cases of mal de mere on the steamer. 
From that on he became cjuite confidential, told me 
that he was coming home to marry the sweetest 
girl in the States, that all his worldly goods were 
done u]) in a bandana handkerchief, that if he lost 
that he might as well jump overboard at once. I 
did not tell him, although I wanted to do so, that 
I was wearing at that tim€ a skirt quilted full of 
double eagles, which I was sure weighed a ton. I 



14-2 Pen Pictures of Early ] Vest em Days. 

had also made a chamois skin vest for my hushand 
done in the same way, so we were ])y no means 
featherweights. 

The steamship company cliaroed tiftv per cent, 
to take care of onr money for ns and then we were 
in danger of losing it. There was a revM)kition going 
on in Gantamala. and Walker's fillihnsters had over- 
rnn the conntry and were confiscating everything 
a\'ailable. as we found to our discomfiture before 
reaching the steamer on the Atlantic side, .\nother 
special friend was a gentleman by the name of 
Springer, a bachelor, who approached us through 
my little three-year-old boy, who seemed a veritable 
little man, never having had playmates and from 
the journeys he had made. As there were no other 
children on board mine were the pets and playmates 
of every one and I had very little care of them. 

September seventeenth we arri^■ed at San Juan 
Del Sur, and disembarked to take transfer hacks for 
the twelve miles of land carriage os'er the mountains 
lying between the Pacific Ocean and Lake Nica- 
ragua. These vehicles were like an excursion car 
with seats running lengthwise, with the driver out- 
side. Our party of fourteen completely filled one, 
but the team of four nuiles \vas all too small to draw 
the load. Walker's men had taken all the good ones 
leaving only these miserable church mice. 

We started on our perilous journey about ten 
o'clock in the morning, making a steady ascent for 



Pen Pictures of Early 11' ester n Days. 143 

six miles to the siminiit and nearly the same dis- 
tance down, to the little town of Virgin Bay at the 
foot (jf the mountain on Lake Xicarag-na. W'e had 
not proceeded far before the men were compelled to 
waJk. who from time to time 'were joined by the 
\\()men. till, to my dismay. I found mvself alone 
with my children and the driver, they having dis- 
tanced us, being able to out-walk the little mules. 
We had a large hamper of provisions done up before 
leaving the steamer, which was very fortunate, for 
these same Walker's men had confiscated most of the 
pro\-isions also, leaving the inhabitants almost desti- 
tute, and most of the passengers went hungry. 

It was some time after noon when we reached 
the summit and halted at a shanty built of bamboo, 
where water, lemonade made of limes, and I supp<jse 
stronger drinks were sold. Tlie party had all 
left their packages and satchels in the hack except 
.Air. Coleridge who very carefully carried his red 
bandana bundle. They were all out of sight when 
we drove up, but lying an the counter in plain \iew 
was the precious bundle. I saw at once that he had 
laid it dcn\n to rest and walked off and forgotten 
It, and the proprietor, a native, had not suspicioned 
its value. I very indifferently asked the driver to 
hand it to me, and I put it with my belongings. 
After the driver had refreshed himself and given 
tlie poor mules water we started again, had not gone 
more than a (juarter of a mile when we met ^Ir. 



144 -^^" Pictures of Early IF est cm Days. 

Coleridge coming- back on a run ; his face was crim- 
son with the heat and he seemed ahnost exhausted. 
1 tried to attract his attention, but he shook his 
head and kept on. I then called and held up the 
bundle, when he stopped and got into the hack 
almost g-i\-en out. He thanked me profusely for 
bringing it to him, but did not divulge its contents. 
\[i'. Springer also entrusted to me a good sized grip, 
and in return said that he would take charge of 
little Charlie all the way over if I would claim that 
as my satchel ; so altogether I was quite weighed 
down with responsibility. It was well I did not 
realize the great danger that surrounded us, for the 
liilibusters on one side and rex'olutionists on the 
other were no respector of persons. 1 have ne\er 
understood why we were not molested. The C(jm- 
pany had troops to guard the baggage and treasure 
which consisted of bags of gold. This was hauled 
across the entire isthmus in two-wheeled carts 
drawn by Spanish oxen having horns nearly or quite 
a vard across, to which A\ere attached strips of 
^^•oo(l with chains leading from them to the carts. 
The oxen were driven by native teamsters. After 
an hour or so, to ni}- great relief, we ox'er- 
took (;)ur party and I begged them not to lea\e 
me again. 

It was almost dark w hen we reached Virgin Bay 
and were dri\'en at (nice to the depot. Rain was 
beginning to fall and standing room was at a pre- 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 145 

niiuin. AA'e decided to open our hamper and have 
snpper. l)iit had to si)read it in a verv small space 
and stand as hest we conld. It was rather ])Oor 
eating- with nothing to wash it down. Mr. Springer 
mysterionsly disappeared and after cpiite a la])se of 
time retnrned with a Mexican drinking cnp filled 
with chocolate. lie passed it rironnd in trne lox'ing- 
cnp fashion, and when it was drained some one else 
wonld take his tnrn in getting it filled. In this 
wa}- we made cpiite a comfortable meal, considering 
the place and circumstances. Howe\-er. with a 
scarcit}- of food we thought ourselves \er\- fortu- 
nate, as most of the people were entirely with(jut. 
\A'hen we had finished and were putting \\\^ our 
su])plies Mr. Springer said to me, ''Mrs. I\'ins, the 
cnp is yours." I gladly accepted it and still cherish 
it as a memento of rather an uncommon experience. 
It is quite a curiosit}', made i)f some kind of a nut, 
carved while soft into cjuecr patterns by the natives 
who generally carry them. They are usuallv small, 
but this is the largest we saw. 




146 Pen Piciurcs of Early Western Days. 
CHAPTER XXIV. 



N a scow faced with sheet iron the 
passengers were being taken out 
to the lake steamer about fifty at 
a time 1>y the Hght of pine 
torches, which occupied most of 
the night. We were to go in the 
last trip, and were all on board, 
Mr. Ivins bringing up the rear 
with the valuable hamper. As he stepped onto the 
gunwale his foot slipped throwing him headlong 
into the midst of us. Just at this moment a voice 
called out of the darkness, "Is there a man here by 
the name of Ivins ?"' My husband replied from his 
prostrate position, "Yes, I am right here; what do 
you want?" The captain of the scow said that he 
had orders to look after us and make our trip across 
as pleasant as possible. This was an agreeable sur- 
prise, which we learned was due to Mr. Ruggles, 
the steamship company's agent on the isthmus, a 
friend of my husband's sister, Mrs. Anderson, who 
had gone with her husband to Nicaragua for the 
benefit of his health. He died shortly after, leaving 
her among strangers, but who proved to be friends. 

The company offered her great inducements to 
remain and open a hotel for the accommodation of 
travelers. Having decided to do so she erected a 



Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 147 

l^iiikling' of bamboo quite large and roomy, where 
she hved for five years. The officers of the company 
were most kind to her. bringing' lier suppHes from 
New York and helping her in many ways. It was 
only necessary for her to ser\e meals four times a 
month, to the outgoing and incoming passengers. 
Not infrequently they met at Castillo Falls, her 
home, and she would ser\-e meals to from one to 
two thousand people in one or two days. At the 
time of our visit she had returned to Keokuk, but 
had written to Mr. Ruggies that we would be on 
the isthmus in September, and he being determined 
to find us, had made inquiry of every lot of pas- 
sengers until he met us on this most perplexing 
trip. Our scow did not reach the lake steamer until 
after two o'clock in the morning", which we found 
to be like an excursion boat with no accommoda- 
tions for sleeping". Imagine se\en hundred people 
tired out lying around on benches or any other ])lace 
they could find and you have the scene. My hus- 
band, children and myself, accompanied by Miss 
Hughes, were shown at once to the captain's room 
and went to bed as comfortaljh' as if we were at 
home. It is always well to have friends at court. 
There was no prospect of crossing the lake that 
night. The rain had ceased and the morning 
dawmed bright and clear with the wind blowing a 
gale, which rose higher with the sun, but did not 
go down with it, so we lay here at anchor till the 
morning of the second day. Our stay gave us ample 



14^^ Pen Pidni'cs of Early Western Days. 

time to admire the lake which is a beautiful sheet 
of water, witli an island in the center shaped like 
a sugar loaf, and the shores are lined \\ ith the most 
luxuriant vegetation, ^^'e were beginning to feel 
anxious about the steamer on the other side, as we 
had been so long- in crossing'. ^^ e had turned the 
hamper over to the rest of our party who were very 
glad to have it. while we were living high at the 
captain's table. There were many curious glances 
cast at us and questions why we had the privilege 
of the upper deck, which was denied to others. .Vt 
daylight the second morning we started across the 
lake; the run was beautiful and occupied the entire 
forenoon. Every one was enthusiastic, for now we 
felt that we were making up for lost time. At 
about noon we reached the head of San ]m\n River 
and were transferred on movaljle bridges to the 
waiting river boat, and before one o'clock were 
again under way down the narrow river whose 
banks were overhung with tropical trees with droop- 
ing branches dipping into the water and brushing 
the sides of the boat. The trees were filled with 
birds of beautiful plumage, parrots, parroquites 
and many other varieties, while several kinds of 
monkeys chattered overhead. 

At the entrance of the river is an old fort, and 
some twelve miles down is Fort Castillo, at the falls 
or rapids of the same name. The adobe buildings 
stood on the summit of a steep hill overlooking a 



Pen Piciurcs of pAirly U'csicni Days. 149 

few 1)anibo(i houses, among- them that once (nvned 
1)y Mrs. Anderson. Here we were oljHged to 
change steamers, walking around the falls, mean- 
time stopping for dinner at the hotel where they had 
been expecting us for three days. The house was 
then kept by Mr. Crocket, a former resident of 
Keokuk. When we entered the hotel Mr. and Mrs. 
Crocket were trying tO' get up a dinner, the former 
with a sick child in his arms. The tables were filled 
with a clamoring croAvd who had no prospect of a 
speedy meal. Having asked Miss Hughes to take 
charge of the children and packages for me I went 
immediately to the kitchen where ]\Ir. Crocket was. 
and asked what I could do to help her. She seemed 
glad to have me and directed me to scramble eggs. 
I used a five-gallon keg of them before I left the 
stove. Mr. Ivins was helping Mr. Crocket wait on 
the tables. Many of the men were at the kitchen 
door with their plates. When they saw us go to 
the rescue a cheer went up and some one said, "We 
will get something now, one of our ladies is going 
to help cook." Mrs. Crocket told our party to wait 
till the crowd had finished, when she would get us 
up an extra dinner, but before we were half through 
eating the boat bell rang pre-emptorily and we were 
obliged to leave on a run. Captain Townsend told 
us that he had waited for us as long as he possibly 
could. 

\\'e took our way on down the river, which grew 
\\ider and deeper with the same luxuriant vegeta- 



150 Pen Pictures of Early Western Days. 

tion. the dense jungles coming- quite to'tlie water's 
edge. T\\Q boat was crowded to such an extent that 
the ol^cers were ol^Hged to keep the people in the 
center of it for fear it would capsize. At alx)ut 
two o'clock in the morning we arrived at Grav 
Town, at the mouth of San Juan River, the small 
river boat taking us out to the w'aiting ocean 
steamer, where we climbed up the stairs by the light 
of torches, feeling as if we were getting home once 
more. The vessel on which we again embarked was 
the historical steamer Star of the West, which we 
all remember so well as being fired into in Charles- 
ton Harbor — the first shot of the Civil War^ — as she 
w^as taking troops to Fort Sumpter for the relief of 
its brave commander, Anderson. I little thought 
when I traveled on her w^hat vicissitudes the beau- 
tiful ^•essel would encounter, making her so noted in 
history. They had been waiting three days for us 
and had steam up to leave at daylight. The trou- 
bles at Guatamala had compelled the company to 
discontinue the Aspinwall line of steamers for 
awhile, and that was the last vessel leaving- Gray 
Town for three months. What would have been 
the consequence if we had been a few hours later 
it is hard to tell. As it was our long stay on the 
isthmus cost many poor men their lives. It w'as 
almost impossible for people to get food even if 
they had the means, and the steerage passengers 
lived on green bananas and plantains, the result 
beine: that the cholera broke out among them as 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ^esfeiii Days. 151 

soon as they boarded tlie Star of the West, and 
about fifty (bed before we arrived at Key West, 
where we landed for coal. Strange to say, there 
was no sickness in any other part of the vessel. I 
noticed a peculiar motion in the vessel, owing- to 
the stopping- of the engines, which I found to be 
for the purpose of giving some poor fellow^ his 
burial in the briny deep. We spent the most part 
of the day at Key West, Florida, enjoying the 
quaint old town, made beautiful by its wealth of 
magnolia and oleander trees and other beautiful 
flowers. We also purchased many curios and choice 
sea shells from the coral reefs nearby. At sundown 
we again boarded the steamer to find that the steer- 
age passengers had left in a body for fear of the 
epidemic. We learned also that the yellow fever 
was raging in Key West, so I fear they were not 
much better off. However, strange to say, there 
was not another case of cholera on the steamer; 
nevertheless we were compelled to spend the night 
at quarantine 011 our arrival at New York. I had 
become quite accustomed to the rolling motion of 
the Sierra Nevada on the Pacific Ocean, but the Star 
of the West pitched from bow to stern, and when 
she mounted a wave and started down the other 
side my heart went clear down to my boots ; it was 
like learning all over again. 

We had the usual storm off Cape Hatteras, l:)ut 
we weathered it bravelv. The arrival at New York 



152 /'('// Pirliircs of Early U\\\icni Days. 

Septeni1)er l\\ent}'-nintli g'a\-e me no tlirill of ])leas- 
iire, for I was alread}" loi\g"ing' for my California 
home. A\'e remained in (juarantine all night ; no 
one went to bed, hut sang songs, played cards, 
danced and tried to while away the weary hours. 
Some one struck up the song. "The sun shies bright 
on nn- California home," and 1 longed for the 
lonel}' ranch, e\'en to the coyotes and the grizzly 
bears. I begged my husband to make a visit and go 
back, but he said again he never put his hand to the 
])l()w and looked back; so with a heavy heart I 
journeved on to Keokuk to meet man_\- dear friends 
who were so kind that after awhile 1 became recon- 
ciled to remain where my lot seemed to be cast, l)ut 
I have never ceased to remember \\ ith pleasure my 
lo\-ed home in the land of sunshine and tlowers. 



Poi Picliirrs of Early JVcslcni Days. 153 



CHAPTER XXV. 




TTILI'^ the clian^'cs on ])rcvi(nis oc- 
casions of absence had l)een 
oreat, (hn'ini;- this it was was 
ahiiost marvelous, and wlien we 
arrived in Keokuk again with a 
small fortune in gold, the boom 
of 1856 was at its height. Prop- 
erty was held at fabulous prices, people were per- 
fectly wild and soon my husband was as much so 
as the rest. Xo persuasion or entreaties on my part 
could restrain him, and in a short time he had in- 
\estcd all we had in Keokuk real estate, bought 
a line home on Grand A\'enue at the head of Sev- 
enth street, and proceeded to enjoy life. But alas 
for human plans they "Aft gang agiee." The social 
side of life was most delightful. Every one seemed 
prospering; parties, receptions and entertainment 
was constantly going" on, which were never excelled 
in this place. 

The first theater called the Athaeneum, was 
erected about 1856 on Second street, between Main 
and Johnson. It w'as well patronized and many * 
high-class entertainments were given. One of the 
most elaborate theatricals ever gotten up here was 
that of the IMistletoe Bough, presented by some 
young people for a charitable object. It would have 



154 -f*'"" Pictures of Early JJ'cstcni Day^. 

(lone credit to professionals in point of elegance 
and beauty of the participants. The costumes of 
the ladies were many of them heirlooms of brocade 
and velvet trimmed with rare old lace, with rouge 
and powder and patches. The gentlemen who were 
in colonial dress of velvet and buff satin, knee pants 
and buckles with wigs and cues, were royal com- 
panions for the grace and beauty of the ladies. The 
play — a pantomine — was given three nights and 
the house was packed each night. 

One of the notable gatherings of 1856 was 
called the "Southern Ball," gotten up by the South- 
ern element which was very strong, composed of 
people from several southern states, Kentuckians 
being largely preponderant. 

This ball was intended to and probably did sur- 
pass in point of elegance anything ever given here 
before. No pains were spared in its appointments; 
for weeks little else was thought or talked of 
among the gay set, and it seemed the climax of 
splendor for the little city. And indeed was almost 
a forerunner of the crash of 1857, whose faint 
warnings were even then beginning to be felt, which 
in a few short months changed the aspect of the 
town in business as well as socially. 

Many of those who appeared to be on the top 
way of prosperity lost their all in the general wreck. 
Property that had been valued at fabulous prices 
could hardly be given away ; business was at a stand- 



Pen Pictures of Early JJ'eslern Days. 155 

still; many additions which had been laid off with 
the expectations of making- their owners wealthy, 
were returned to their original use as corn fields 
or ])()tato patches, with no signs of extending the 
town for years to come. 

Before there were an}' indications of returning 
prosperity, the clouds of disagreement between the 
North and South, which had seemed but clouds in 
the distance, broke o\'er us, and the first gun fired 
in Charleston harbor echoed in Keokuk. 

Being situated so near the border, and with such 
varied elements, feeling ran high. And now indeed 
nothing was talked of but the war. It was hoped, 
however, that before the time of the men enlisted 
for one hundred days expired, all would be set- 
tled. Many of the men began to organize com- 
panies and regiments for the continuance of the 
strife, which was assuming such alarming propor- 
tions. As will be seen from history, many Keokuk 
men received commissions elsewhere. But Com- 
pany A of Iowa Second Regiment was eminently 
a Keokuk company, and was composed mostly of 
the crack militia company of the city wdio had vol- 
unteered almost in a body. And many of the brav- 
est Iowa officers were selected from the Keokuk 
rifles. 

The regiment was in camp here awaiting orders, 
w hich might come at any time. The days were re- 
plete with interesting occurrences. Among them 



13^) Pen Piciurcs of P.arJ\ ]]'cstcrn Days. 

few will remember the making of the first flag- tliat 
went from Keokuk to the scene of conflict. 

A small l)an(l of patriotic women resolved that 
our b()_\s should have a flne flag. I being young and 
energetic, was awarded the honor of managing the 
enterprise. I ordered the silk, for it must be made 
of silk, and when it came planned and cut out the 
beautiful emblem. For many days a faithful half- 
dozen met at my house and sewed the long seams, 
and deft lingers placed the white stars on the field 
of blue. The staff was made of strong wood, with 
hea\'y cord and tassels. It was the regulation size, 
and when all was completed we were quite satisfied 
with the result of our labors. We went out often 
to see the soldiers drill, and arranged for a grand 
presentation. But alas ! before the day arrived to 
present our beautiful banner, the Iowa Second Regi- 
ment was ordered to the front. 

One of the large St. Louis packets, the Jennie 
Dean, was chartered to take them south. Nothing 
daunted, however, the faithful half-dozen rose with 
the dawn on that memorable morning, gathered 
flowers in the rain, and with them and the beloved 
flag- hurried down to the wharf, where all the citi- 
zens were assembled, and amid smiles and tears 
gave it to those we lo\-ed so well, to be borne by 
them to victory or death. \\'e showered them with 
flowers, and as the steamer swung out into the 
stream a loud hurrah went up from the soldiers 



l\-)i I'icturcs of Early U'cstcrii Days. 157 

l)()\-s for "The twirls they left behind them." Com- 
pany A carried our Hag- all through the war, bring- 
ing- it back tattered and torn by shot and shell. It 
was taken to Des Moines where it is still preserved 
as a i)recious relic among' others at the capital, 
\\hile most of those whose love and loyalty were 
in its making have crossed the divide. 

Keokuk was selected as a hospital post, and there 
were established five hospitals, the Estes House and 
the Keokuk Hotel being the larg'est. Hundreds of 
sick and disabled soldiers were brought here. The 
arrival of a steam boat with a yellow flag- was the 
signal for every one to turn out to their assistance, 
and the inhabitants never failed in their devotion to 
those who were defending- our beloved country. 
Our National Cemetery speaks for itself of those 
who found their last l:)ivouac on its cpiiet slopes. 

One niigh go on and relate many interesting- 
events of the years of the Civil War. They are of 
so recent date, however, as to be well remembered 
l)y the present inhabitants. But most of those who 
played their part in the earlier days have passed 
to the Beyond, and only two or three remain, and of 
these only one to gather up the threads of memo- 
ries of the past and weave them into Pen Pictures 
of the Beautiful Long Ago. 



THE END. 



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